


How to Fall

by Yekulan



Series: Isla Harrel [1]
Category: Eclipse Phase
Genre: F/F, F/M, Original Character(s), Science Fiction
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-29
Updated: 2019-06-26
Packaged: 2020-03-29 09:43:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 24,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19017358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yekulan/pseuds/Yekulan
Summary: It's five years after the Fall. Isla Harrel is a scientist and an Exhuman  working on a comet base out in the Oort Cloud. This is her story.





	1. Chapter 1

  
Curious eyes stared hard at the display projected on the wall, on the hologram showed a person sitting on the edge of a cot bolted to the wall and floor; the figure stared at the floor as though searching it for answers on another plane of existence. The subject was a man, age irrelevant and deceiving when bodies could be tossed away like used toys before buying another, but the morph was an adult at least. Bruiser morph maybe? Most likely given the muscle on the man, it was too early for the infection to build that much mass in less than an hour, and his occupation before the infection was receiving shipments from our patrons; massive boxes that needed strength to be moved were no doubt his forte before all this.

Green eyes darted to the side as her mind summoned information on the subject from the connection of her implants. Born pre-fall like most, ex-rebel, deemed too free thinking for the military but that was right at home on the base he resided in. He had also been stationed at the base of operations for over two years, no marks against him or hints at suspicion, overall the perfect loyal servant that knew his place in the world.

"Wrong place, wrong time." A man's voice rang out from behind the woman and her stance only a few feet away from the holograph.

"It would seem so, unfortunate for someone so flawless to our needs. Don't you think Markus?" It was obvious as the woman replied she wasn't amused by the predicament with the snap in her tone.

"I don't give the orders, I follow them, just like you. Infected members of the base are to be quarantined and tested on, we can't pass up the opportunities it presents to witness a live subject. In transition no less. I just wish the idiot had booked his regular physical a few weeks earlier, would have made studying the changes easier. Besides, he's got a backup we're going to restore and sleeve, he'll never know what happened to his other self-"

"He's a man, Markus; he has family, friends, hobbies, and had a job until we repurposed him like livestock. Whether death is a drawback or not he should be treated better than this." Her lips twitching as she held back the urge to shout, doing her best to calmly interrupt her colleague.

"Don't tell me after all these years you're finally going soft on us?" The man she called Markus asked, walking up beside her to glance at her face, trying to read what she couldn't hide.

"Far from it, I just think our methods are juvenile. We seek to transcend humanity yet we still perform research like primal humans, using test subjects because we're too scared of what we don't understand to face it ourselves." Finally the woman turned her head from the display that lit up both their faces in a pale blue glow, staring intensely at Markus. "The TITANS are gone but not dead, we have no idea where they all went, or for how long they will be gone. What if we do not evolve sufficiently before they come back? There's a clock ticking and none of us can see the time."

"That's sounds more like the Isla I know. So, what do you suppose we do differently?" His interest clearly peaked as he actually twisted himself to face his companion, arms folding across his chest.

"I've been talking to the board for months now, we need progress we're not getting, we've stagnated and we need a leap forward to break the wall." With a heavy sigh Isla bowed her head and rubbed her temples before looking up at the man on the screen. "I volunteered to be a risk factor and study the next subject during the infectious hours first hand, something we haven't done before that I believe could hold the answers."

"You? Go in there? When he's the most infectious?" It was clear by the scoff he doubted either her plan or her sanity. "If you get infected you'll end up just like him, tested on till you die or kill yourself, whichever comes first. The result will be the same, insufficient data, it's pointless."

"Not necessarily." This was something she should have been happy about, excited even if not thrilled; instead she was terrified and scared behind her stone cold expression. "I acquired a requisition for exemption, stated my case of what I hope to achieve through it, before finally getting it accepted. This moment has been years in the making." She tried to smile but in doing so her demeanor faltered and revealed an expression full of concern.

"You intend to get infected? You're not just going in there to study, you're going in there to become studied!" The man let out a small laugh and patted her on the back before wiping at his eye for an invisible tear to pretend he had laughed harder than he did. "Oh, you almost got me there, had me worried for a second, thought you were actually serious about this." Letting out a wheezy sigh in relief.

"I'm not joking Markus. I've had my backup done in doubles and put on lockdown, and my physical performed with sample tissues taken, even neural mapping, all I have to do is get into the airlock and walk in." Doing her best to recompose herself and not let her fear slip through the cracks, drawing attention away from herself to the lab equipment positioned inside

"What are you trying to do?" Markus was clearly confused, the initial explanation had been crazy but this was nonsense, unsure of what she could hope to achieve by becoming a lab rat.

"I will be studying myself, first hand. I have my degree's in biology, xeno-biology, infectious disease, genetic modification, and genetherapy; not to mention my training as an emergency field medic during the Fall. I'm the perfect candidate on the base to observe my own biological changes." Taking a deep breath, her voice shook as she continued. "I'll be able to record my symptoms with extreme first hand accuracy. My Muse has been adjusted for psychological analysis, and therapy. They have been tasked with creating and supplying daily reports to the board for review. There will be testing but nothing lethal; things like psychological and physical evaluation that isn't possible when the test subject isn't willing. Otherwise, I will be free to research myself and continue any other work I have ongoing, even walk freely around the base, unless I am deemed a threat and assuming I'm not infectious."

"What then?"

"Summarily executed via port decompression and shot at by the base's turret system." Her tone cracked as the possibility of her first death loomed over her. "I'll be doing video recordings daily to inform myself of current events and developments on the base so when I am resleeved in the event of execution with my uninfected backup I can pick up on where I left off."

"Assuming this isn't the bad version of the virus that turns you into a mass of writhing flesh, or a walking basilisk hack, you'll be alive for 30 seconds if that happens to him in there, they won't even wait to see what happens to you."

"I'm unfortunately well aware…" Her voice trailing off as she watched the man start walking around, fanning himself to cool off from the fever he was no doubt suffering from by now at two hours in. "If you'll excuse me, I have the human race to save." Isla promptly took her leave and stepped out through the automatic sliding door as it opened for her. 

As she walked she did her best to remain composed for her peers as she passed them; shoulders back, hard stare forwards, and a pace to her walk like she had to be somewhere and it was important. Inside she was a mess, yes death was temporary, they had excelled past that point as a species, but it did not mean it wouldn't hurt, that she wouldn't experience the unknown first hand, the possibility of being exposed to the cold world that was empty space and the sudden moment of agony from the turrets as they shot her right before she died. She would feel it all, even if her consciousness continued in another body. *This must be how beta forks feel right before they die.* She thought to herself, it was no wonder now why some outer systems were fighting for the rights of forks separated from their owners.

(Comm link open, connection secure, you're free to talk.) A female matter of factly voice stated in her head.  
[Apollo, you listening?]  
{Have nothing better to do.}  
[You're positive this isn't an exsurgent strain, this is the Watt's Macleod one?]  
{Certain enough to risk trying to get a sentinel infected.}  
[And if you're wrong?]  
{Well, we'll have some valuable exsurgent data to collect instead, won't we?}  
[…]  
{Okay fine, we have a 95% certainty that some lunatic is replicating the Watts Macleod strain to a degree of perfection that tops anything we've been able to achieve or find remnants of.}  
[That's better, you know I need number and facts, not jokes.]

Isla visibly relaxed as the chance of execution was realized to be only a 5% chance, still not the best chance but better than she originally thought.

{So, you're going to do it?}  
[Not going to have another chance like this, probably not before the TITANS come back.]  
{You Exhumans are crazy, and to think you're one of the more sane ones we've worked with.}  
[Most Exhumans do it for themselves and the colony, I do it for the human race. I saw the slaughter they inflicted first hand, we need to become smarter and stronger to fight them.]  
{And that's why we work with you and not that lunatic Markus you call a friend.}  
[He's a genius, he's just pointing it in the wrong direction. Hopefully with this experiment I can make him see there is gains to be made in stepping beyond standard scientific processes.]  
{If you say so, we don't trust him regardless, that fork we interrogated was a twisted asshole at the end of the day, just keep that in mind.}  
[And my fork wasn't?]  
{You actually tried to save people and were able to make hard calls for a greater good, ability to remove emotional attachment from the equation, held up well in interrogation, mental damage was minimal, nothing some one on one time with your muse wasn't able to solve.}  
[Do you always tell your agents this information?]  
{Oh hell no, most of them would get angry we kidnapped a fork of them before contact; but we've been working with you long enough, you know what we're about as much as we know you inside and out.}  
[I'm flattered.]

It was apparent from her tone in the last communication she wasn't flattered at all. 

By now she stood in front of the airlock doors in her labcoat. Green eyes studied the keypad intently as she tried to collect herself for the final step into the unknown.

{If its any consolation, aside from mental disabilities, most async's we work with do experience and increase in mental and physical prowess. So you will achieve what you're looking for, and in working with us we can share your research and results with other scientists to spread the information you gather. Terminating link.}

It's wasn't much of a comfort, but it was something, it reminded her that she was doing this for the human race as a species, not just herself. She also had the backup if things were too much, so she could continue her work regardless of what happened to this version of her conscience.

Fingers danced lightly across the keypad as she entered the lock code, the door slowly sliding open as the heavy metal strained the pneumatic system. As she stepped in the doors hissed shut behind her and the disinfectant sprayed thickly into the air from every direction. Finally after the air settled the door in front of her opened and she stepped through the threshold to look at the man who was staring intently at her. 

"Are you mental?" He asked, looking at her walking in completely unprotected.

"I prefer to use the term, calculated risk." Her lips pulling into a thin smile as she stepped towards some of the medical equipment.

"It's going to infect you too, then we'll both be monsters, how is that calculated?" It was evident he wasn't as stupid as most bruiser morphs, maybe the base had put a bit more effort into the frontal lobe during development.

"Calculated because my studies imply neither of us are going to turn into monsters. Freaks, maybe, but not monsters." Inspecting the collections of old fashioned medical equipment, it was in excellent condition, but ancient now compared to what she could be using. It was too much of a risk if Apollo was wrong to get electronic equipment infected and cause an outbreak. Scalpels, thread, scissors, needles, various tubes and petri dishes sat ready for her with a basic microscope in the corner. "If you would be so kind as to lay down on the bed for me, I can either put you to sleep or numb the skin I work around, it's your choice."

The man looked hesitantly at the table and sighed. There was no doubt in Isla's mind he had been told the stories of what happened to those who resisted, at least she was being far more considerate than the stories made their work out to be. 

"I'd like to be asleep, I already feel like shit, not sure how well I'd do being able to see myself being cut open right now." The man visibly shuddered as he moved over to the table and laid down.

"Your name sir?" She asked as she moved a cannister of gas over to the side of the bed along with her trolley covered in shiny metal tools.

"Geiger." He replied quietly as he watched her approach.

"Well Gierger, I'll do my best to be gentle, and I promise, this shows signs of being a nonlethal nonviolent virus, there's a very high chance you won't turn into one of those monsters you've heard stories of." Pulling up a small cushioned stool they had supplied her to work on over to the cot, placing the plastic mask attached to the gas on his face. "Tell me, how did you get infected?"

"Working in the storage room." He started as the gas mask was placed gingerly on his face. "Someone did a shit job packing the box this vial came in, it broke the moment I set the box down even a little roughly. Naturally I followed procedure, pulled the quarantine bubble out of my pocket and activated it around myself and the box and waited for someone to notice me while I turned off all my network links." His voice starting to drift off as he spoke, succumbing to the sleeping gas.

"Almost sounds like someone was trying to cause an outbreak." She mumbled to herself, carefully regulating the gas with patient twists of the valve. "Did the box have any shipping or return address?"

"It was one of those… Shipments that requires… The whole shipment to know… Encrypted" His last words drifting off into sleep stuck in Isla's mind, only patron's knew the address to the shipping center intermediary they sent items directly to and from for the base. 

[Dymphna?]  
(Yes?)  
[Can you notify Apollo as soon as the quarantine is lifted on my communications what we just heard?]  
(Absolutely, my recording mode is on as always, I'll save that clip of audio and video in particular.)  
[Good, maybe we just learned something about the shipment he didn't.]  
(Are you sure we can trust him? He seems to be withholding information more often than not lately.)  
[True, but he trusts us enough to send a beta fork to the base to run on the tiny server in my lab, most people don't send a beta fork away calmly for fear of divergence.]  
(The fork will likely be deleted upon pruning for convergence of information, and he seems to be aware of that.)  
[Well outbound communications were too suspicious, and too difficult to mask, he likely got briefed he would be on a one way trip coming here.]  
(True. My concern is I've had very little luck pulling up anything on him or his organization called Firewall.)  
[I know about them, and I need you to trust that I trust them.]  
(A difficult proposal but I have no choice do I?)  
[Not at the moment, no.] 

While she spoke to her Muse, Isla was working away at taking samples from just about everywhere she could on the man. Drawing blood, collecting saliva, cutting skin, taking small snippets from internal organs she could get away with without damaging them badly. Her vial and petri dish collection was quickly filled, and then she was off to the task of stitching the man back together everywhere she took her samples. While she tried to be gentle, she had no doubt he would feel like he had gotten into a barfight and not a surgical operation.

(I'm registering a slight increase in your body temperature, nanomachines in your blood have been neutralized, white blood cells are not responding, as though they are being sedated.)  
[Sounds like I caught it.]

There was a heavy sigh of relief and anxiety as she took in the information. 

[Make sure to record everything, timestamp all the information, register everything, no matter how small.]  
(Affirmative.)

Turning off the gas feed to her patient, Isla pulled all the equipment away to a makeshift desk that was thrown together for her research and the microscope housed there. A small refrigerator sat under the desk, a battery powered storage for her samples while she worked on her current observations.

"Recording, first sample; blood. The nanomachines are clearly working away in the sample, they attack first responders nanomachine and white blood cell, it appears they perform some sort of task on the cells to make them unresponsive to their presence. They attack in groups and latch onto a single cell or nanomachine to overwhelm it's defenses." Isla mumbled away to herself as she kept watching the interactions under the microscope. 

Swapping out sample dishes and adjusting the scope, Isla looked down at a tissue sample from the Geiger's skin. "Second sample; forearm skin. Same observations as the first sample, the bodies natural and unnatural defense system becomes dormant while nanomachines work on organic matter. They appear to be injecting skin and muscle cells with a fluid, it makes them swell slightly but not burst. If only this wasn't on a microscopic level I could collect better samples with this primitive junk." She mumbled feeling rather useless in her studies as a needle would do little to extract a substance from a single cell to be studied by more advanced computers before it was metabolized. "It almost seems to be doing break fix work on the body, the heat isn't caused by the immune system so much as the metabolic action taking place reaches a higher level than normal, producing more heat."

Her research continued, and even though she found answers to some of her and her colleagues questions, it only made her come up with another slew of curious ideas that needed answers. Before long she was hounded by the sweat beading on her brow as she succumbed to the fever herself. "I think I'm going to have to cut the sample observations short, I feel like I'm standing on the sun." Mumbling as she stood up and realized her labcoat along with everything else she wore was sticking to her skin head to toe from the amount of sweat she was expelling. Unlike the bruiser morph that typically reached high temperatures from physical labour, her Observer morph wasn't meant to burn so hot and it was showing. 

(Your temperature is 41 degree Celsius, near lethal but far enough away to prevent damage. Shall I administer medication?)  
[No, it won't work, it's not an immune response, you'll just add another variable factor to the study we don't need.]  
(I may be forced to induce a coma to reduce damage to the brain if you reach 42 degrees.)  
[Don't we need a normal unhindered scenario, no intervention, it has to run it's course.]  
(Acknowledged, unfortunately, withholding medical treatment.)

Isla slowly walked over to a corner to sit down and watch her test subject sleep peacefully. "Kind of jealous he gets to sleep through the worst of it." She mumbled with a weak smile as she leaned her head back against the wall. "At least I got through over half the samples before I had to stop. How much longer?" Grunting as a headache began to build in her forehead. It was too difficult to talk to her Muse through her implant for some reason, having to talk aloud.

(Infection time currently at roughly 8 hours, 16 hours remaining till quarantine lift.)

"Going to be a long sixteen hours." She huffed, leaning back against the cold metal wall of the corner to try and cool down. "What are his vitals at, he's been infected two hours longer than me."

(Stable, due to sleeping his temperature is much lower, 39 degrees Celsius, heartrate stable, brain activity appears normal according to his implants, no distress.)

"Maybe I should sleep too, its obvious being awake during the process puts more strain on the body from temperature alone."

(As your Muse and a first aid certified AI, I would highly recommend voluntary sleep.)

"Alright, I can get behind that, this headache is only getting worse, and fast." Isla didn't even care she was on the floor, if anything the metal tiles were graciously cool, sweet relief to the burning heat she was experiencing. It didn't take long to pass out, a wave of exhaustion hitting her like a sack of bricks.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who knew getting sick could be so hard?

"Hey? Doc? You all right?"

Isla woke to see Geiger kneeling over her with a look of concern, thankfully he appeared to be in decent shape despite the minor surgery, smiling as he saw her wake. 

"You look like you've been through hell."

Sitting up was difficult, it felt like she had spent the whole day working out, not sleeping. "Yeah" Grunting as she winced from tender muscles complaining. "I feel like it." 

"Well, looks like your study was right, neither of us is mutants, and I feel, okay, a little weird, but okay." The man offering her a hand she gratefully took before being pulled to her feet by the significantly stronger morph. Despite the strength, he had been surprisingly gentle.

"Thank you." Left hand holding the side of her head that ached in a way she didn't know possible before now.

"Any idea how long till they let us out, or start coming in?" Geiger asked, seconds behind Dymphna's statement.

(22 hours into an infection. Two hours till the infectious stage ends. One hour extra was added by board requirement for experimentation.)

"Three hours," Isla said quietly, stumbling over to her table of notes and samples to make sure everything was still okay and where she left it. "Dymphna, it's hard to talk to you still, any data collected while I slept?"

"Dymphna?" The man asked only to receive a glare from Isla before it sunk in that she was talking to her Muse with a fitting look of realization on his face.

(Body temperature dropped as expected, the brain went into a catatonic state without any assistance, nanomachine virus appears to have maintained your body functions while your brain effectively shut down into a minimal state. Your cortical stack bots are struggling to document all the changes to your neural pathways, they deemed old backups too much variance and have started a fresh backup. Suggests significant changes neurologically.)

"Interesting, not quite what I was expecting." She mumbled before sitting down on the stool, her clothes crinkling audibly from the sweat induced stiffness. "I need a shower." She mumbled, folding her arms on the table and resting her head on them; she was still so tired, so exhausted.

(Appears natural and implanted immune system is beginning to respond again, nanomachine infection is being attacked and removed, apparent that the infectious stage ends because of the suppressed immune system response expires.)

"Makes enough sense." Groaning as she closed her eyes and shifted to rest her burning forehead on the cold metal table. 

"Something wrong Doc?" Geiger asked, walking over to the scientist in distress but keeping his distance.

"I feel like I just finished a marathon, and somehow I'm still running it." She grunted back. "I'm two hours behind you in terms of infection, I'm evidently supposed to still be sleeping to work through the changes, and instead you woke me." Growling the last words at him.

"Oh, my bad." He mumbled apologetically. "Um, you did a pretty good job patching me up and everything, by the way, feels like I got thrown a few rough punches but nothing serious. You guys aren't so bad."

"You're welcome, I think." Still talking with her forehead pressed against the table, shifting now and then to find a new cold spot after the current one got too warm.

Time seemed to stop, it took what felt like forever for the three hours to pass, and during it, Isla didn't move. Passing in and out of consciousness from time to time. She finally woke up when Markus walked in and put a cold hand on her shoulder.

"Hmm?" She groaned, wiping the sleep from her eyes. "Where?… Oh… It's done." Mumbling as she stood up on sore legs. 

"Christ woman, you reek, and look like a mess." He remarked, laughing as he helped guide her to the decontamination chamber.

"You sure know how to compliment a woman." She sneered with a hint of sarcasm, a weary smile replacing her expression quickly.

"Oh, you know me." He laughed back before closing his mouth, just in time for the disinfectant spray to start misting both of them.

"Where's Geiger?" She mumbled, having not seen the man in the room with her as she was woken up.

"Taken to testing, like you're supposed to but not," Markus mumbled, obviously still not amused by the idea.

"So now I'm infected you want nothing to do with me, is that it?" She grunted, too weak to be angry.

"I can't trust you because I don't even know if you're still you, maybe after we confirm you still are yourself and not mind controlled or going to mutate in a few days I'll be a bit more trusting."

Isla hobbled down the hall with her arm slung over his shoulder for support with a look of disbelief. Unfortunately, she knew Markus well enough to know he would need evidence to be convinced, any words would just be wasted breath at this point. Letting herself be helped down the hall to her suite on the base. It was small due to space constraints, but it was practically a bachelor suite without a shower or bathtub. A fabber was on the small counter beside a sink, a table to eat and do her work, a couch to watch holo-displays from, and a comfortable bed tucked in the corner.

"Despite my protests, the board says you're allowed to reside in your room for the next few days while you deal with whatever changes might be taking place. They installed a camera in here to make sure you're under surveillance in case it turns out to be something more volatile. They can also lock the door remotely if they suspect you're hostile or infectious still; though scans reveal you're not putting off nanomachines or bacteria strains." Markus' tone was clearly one of disappointment as he led Isla into the room and helped seat her on the bed. "Just focus on recovering."

"Thanks, I'll try…" She mumbled, still resentful of his suspicions while she watched him walk out.

It was evident something had changed in her. Her body felt odd, alien even, legs wobbling as she tried to stand up to fetch something to eat.

(Are you all right?)

"Yeah, just, feel like I'm off balance, as though something's missing."

(Odd, nanomachines are reporting normal health conditions now, nothing appears wrong.) Dymphna sounded worried for once and it made Isla concerned; Dymphna never sounded worried.

"One step at a time right? That's part of the experiment, figuring out what this thing feels like and what it does to us."

(Correct. I received an update from the board, they want you to go in for full examination tomorrow. No showering allowed in the event the nanomachines left scientific data on your skin.)

"Of course they do. At least they're being generous, normally they'd examine me today."

(Apparently, that's what Geiger is going through as far as I can tell from my access of base records.)

Her heart sank a little; Isla felt bad for the man, she had given him hope that the stories weren't true only to subject him to the horrors, but spare herself. "Maybe that can change if my experiment goes well enough." Muttering to herself as she set the fabber to make a simple sandwich.

(He does not appear to be showing symptoms of the exsurgent virus strain. For all their poking and prodding he does not appear infected. If not for your physical examination of him there would be no evidence of hostile nanomachines, just like yourself so far. Needless to say, your peers studying him appear stumped in their reports.)

"It's because we've never had this strain before, finally I have a chance to make them see we can learn more than just war tactics from TITANS. We can use them to our own advantage under the right conditions." Isla's face finally showed its second smile of the day as she thought fondly of the implications.

(Secure comm link established, be warned Apollo, she seems to be having difficulties talking through comms.)  
{So you made it out alive, I saw the reports sent to your server, looks like you're not infectious. How do you feel?}  
[Like… Shit… Body… Is alien.]  
{Dymphna, you sure she's all right?}  
(It appears a large portion of her brain has been rewired given the reaction of the nanomachines in her cortical stack to create a new mind map from scratch. It is safe to assume her implants are trying to reintegrate into the newly adjusted network of neurons.)  
{That's a little, unexpected. We didn't know the virus did that much work on the subject in such a short time frame. Impressive. So what is she trying to say?}  
(She's having issues adapting to the neurological changes, she feels off balance and very weak at the moment.)  
{Alright, well, keep my posted Dymphna. In the meantime, I'll let you get your feet under you Isla, hope you're back to feeling normal soon.}  
(Communications ended.)

"I really wish I could get some warning before he does that." She grumbled, fetching the newly finished sandwich made out of carbon and nutrient paste out of the fabber; remembering fondly when the taste of such food used to make her gag.

(He does send a warning, but he dilates time in the server, so his three-minute warning is more like 3 seconds.)

"Of course he's like that." She muttered, knowing infomorphs had a habit of being workaholics. "Well, best get some rest while I have the chance." 

(Highly advised, the best method of recovery from illness and exhaustion is bedrest. However, you have only eaten once in twenty-four hours, are you certain you do not require more food?)

"I'm certain Dymphna, bit queasy from the loss of balance, you know?"

(I don't, but I understand. Sleep well. I'll keep recording, monitoring, analyzing, and sending my reports to the board.)

"Remember, our little rule."

(Of course, conversations with Apollo never happened.)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isla is beginning to realize she bit off more than she can handle as side effects of the infection are starting to set in, but none of them the way she was expecting.

Isla awoke suddenly in a cold sweat, sitting straight up as she reached out into the air for what she had been trying to grab in her dreams. She retracted her outstretched hand and cradled her head in both hands instead. Brown hair shrouded an already limited view. 

(Nightmares?)  
[Y-e-s]  
(It seems the implant is getting a better link, even if it means you have to spell out your response. Please, feel free to talk instead. What was it about?)

Isla heaved a heavy sigh before giving into the gentle interrogation of her Muse. "I was back on earth, it was a memory, but it wasn't, it's not how I remembered it."

(What do you mean?)

"It was extraction, my last on earth, the TITANS were hot on our heels, instead of being pulled into the space elevator like I remember I was pushed in by one of the abominations."

(Odd, I remember that moment clearly, the Sargent pulled you in by your collar before it grabbed you.)

"I know, but, I felt like I abandoned it, whomever it used to be. In the dream at least."

(Interesting, noted. How are you feeling otherwise?)

"Still fighting a splitting headache."

(Still feel nauseous and off balance?)

"Don't know, haven't stood up, not sure I want to find out."

(Well, vitals are still without any anomalies, just looks like you're fighting a cold or the flu statistically but the immune system reaction isn't there.)

"How is Geiger?" Pulling her hands slowly down her face as she waited for the bad news.

(He appears to be resting, it's fairly early still, six am base time. It appears with the lack of understanding as to what strain he was infected with they're running more biopsies than anything else, trying to figure out what changed.)

"Make a request to the board, let them know I want to review everything they study about him; if possible, I want to be the scientist assigned to study him instead, given I suffered the same infection as him I might know if he's withholding information."

(I will make and process the request as soon as the board awakens.)

"Is anyone in the lab to perform my physical?"

(Not for a couple of hours.)

"Of course." Swinging her legs off the side of the bed as she spoke, testing her feet before standing up and nearly falling on her face as she caught herself. 

(Off balance still?)

"Feels like it's worse." Looking behind her in confusion for the cause, more out of instinct than logic. "Like something's missing."

(What is?)

"I… Don't know." It was frustrating, she'd go as far as to say it was infuriating; the lack of balance made no sense. "Remind me to have the physician check my ears, maybe something's wrong in there."

(Noted. Anything else to record?)

"I still feel extremely off, as though something's not right, but I have no idea what it is." Walking over to the sink to fetch a cup and pour a glass of water from the faucet. "Everything feels sharper though, does that make sense?"

(Sharp? As in it hurts to touch?)

"Feels sharp maybe wasn't the right wording" Pausing in her action for a moment to look around the pitch black room. "I'm more aware of my surroundings? I don't know how else to word it."

(Interesting, noted.)

"I'm going to try and go back to bed after this glass of water, I'm still exhausted." Pounding back the clear fluid with vigour before setting the glass down on the counter and walking over to her bed. "Wake me up at nine am base time?"

(Will do, sleep well.)

(Good morning)

Isla jolted awake from the voice in her head, she had her muse for years but their wake up call was something she had never gotten used to. "Thank you." Groaning as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes and sat up in bed.

(How are you feeling?)

"Better, but I still feel sore and abnormal." 

(Noted. I'm going to inform Apollo of everything so far while you do your physical.)

A shudder went down her spine as she remembered the task ahead. The doctors on the base were far from gentle but they got the job done, sometimes she wished they were worse at their jobs so they could hire new ones. "Might as well take a change of clothes, no doubt they'll want more samples of everything they can get their hands on and take mine." Going about throwing a clean set of clothes into a plastic bag and starting off down the hall. She was still wobbling as she walked, and it was painfully obvious she wasn't well to those who passed by her in the halls.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer," Isla grumbled under her breath before catching herself in surprise.

(Are you okay?)  
[Yes.]  
(Your implant is becoming more receptive so that's good.)

Isla nodded instead of responding, talking to Dymphna was still difficult and not worth the effort to confirm information she didn't have to. Stepping in front of the exam room door, she watched it eagerly slide open and reveal the man inside getting ready for something, presumably her.

"Ah, Doctor Harrel, please, come in, the board informed me you'd be stopping by again. Same as last time?"

"You seem too excited for your own good." Remarking at his unusually peppy mood.

"How could I not, I get to collect information on my first exsurgent-"

"I would like to remind you, I'm infected, but I'm not the enemy; as you can clearly see by the fact you're still alive and I haven't infected or attacked anyone." Interrupting him with a snap in her matter of fact tone.

The man grew a bit pale from the vague death threat before quietly getting back to preparing. "I-I uh, I'm almost done getting ready."

(Isla, are you sure you're all right?)  
[No. I am not. Something is not right. Irritated.]  
(Noted. Unfortunately, there isn't much I can do about that. I can administer a mild muscle relaxant to try and calm you for what's ahead?)  
[Please.]

A faint swell of pressure coursed through her veins before a relaxing sensation overwhelmed her, almost falling to the floor as she walked over to the operating table. 

"Well, uh, guess we'll get started then? I'll make sure to send all the results to your server as per the Board's orders." The man muttered, obviously still uncomfortable since Isla's remark.

"Get it over with." She mumbled, laying down and waiting for the poking and prodding to begin.

Roughly three hours later and Isla was walking out of the exam room more sore than she had entered. "I swear, sometimes those exams are like a loyalty test to see how much you're willing to put up with…" Grumbling as she walked down the hall with a brooding air in a patient gown. 

[Anything from Apollo?]  
(He's as concerned yet intrigued as we are. No answers other than it's likely infection related, the results of your examination are what will answer most of our questions, namely the CAT scan and neural mapping.)  
[Guess we just have to wait for the doctor to process the data and send it to the Board and myself.]  
(More or less. You've been excused from duty for the rest of the week given my reports, they're worried about your physical and mental health and my observations recommended bed rest and physical rehabilitation.)  
[Not sure if I should thank you or kiss you.]  
(Kissing would be difficult, not material, a thank you will suffice; you're welcome.)

Isla smirked as her muse acted a bit like a smart ass for once, *they learned from the best* she mused. Her scowl remained at bay as she made her way to the showers and finally cleaned herself up; but not without slipping and falling a few times from her balancing problems. Emerging from the shared bathroom rubbing her hip in a fresh set of clothes before making her way briskly towards her room with a vague limp.

[Remind me to bring a stool or something to sit on next time until we figure out what's causing my balancing problems.]  
(Noted. Also, Apollo noticed something in his observations of video recordings you might be interested in.)  
[What is that?]  
(You've been walking all the balls of your feet since leaving the virus chamber.)

Isla stopped dead in her tracks before looking down at her feet, despite wearing flat soled shoes her feet were bent as though she were in heels or something similar.

[What in the hell…]  
(So you weren't doing it on purpose?)  
[No, I…]

Isla tried to stand flat footed but it felt weird, not painful but uncomfortable like it was unnatural to walk with her feet flat against the floor.

[That doesn't make sense though, why am I doing it? ]  
(We know as much as you do Isla. At best we can blame it on the virus, why though is beyond us. Geiger has not shown these symptoms. It appears, so far, that there may be variances in how each person responds to the Watts MacLeod strain, even from the same vector of infection.)  
[Great, that's going to make my job of studying the biological changes it induces so much easier.] 

Isla remarked mentally before storming off with an unsteady wobble to her room in a strange mixture of frustration and deep concern. Once in her room, she desperately tried to walk normally, but no matter what she did, as soon as she stopped focusing on it, she went back to walking on the front of her feet. 

(Isla?)

"I can't help it, it's like walking normally is abnormal and this is the norm now; as though it's muscle memory." Isla's hands reached up to the sides of her head, gripping her hair in frustration as she looked down in dumbfound fear.

(Breathe, Isla, it's all right, it's minor, we can work around this, it's just how you walk.)

"It's not all right, I knew the virus would change things, but I thought they would be physical, not mental, that's all the virus has ever changed in other studies."

(It's just a new neurological comfort, a habit you didn't have to develop normally. You're not thinking clearly Isla, maybe the other studies were wrong. The doctor said everything appears physically the same at first glance, the tests haven't come back yet but a rework of foot muscles would be clearly visible.)

The scientist did her best to sit down on her bed and breathe slowly, counting to five between breathing in and out. "I'm a biologist, not a neurologist, what was I thinking." Muttering to herself as she moved her hands to cover her face.

(We didn't realize it was a primarily neurological change for some, we suspected cell mutations to cause the mental changes described by studies, not a full neural rework, we couldn't have predicted this.)

"I should have realized it would be more complicated," Isla grumbled into her hands as she tried to think her way out of the mess, but her brain still felt scrambled.

(Markus is a neurologist, this might be a chance to prove he can trust you by placing trust in him to study your brain.)  
[Call Apollo.]  
(Secure connection established.)  
{What is it Isla?}  
[Me being the sole researcher on this project isn't going to work.]  
{What do you mean?}  
[Initial scans, checkup, inspections, all of it report the same thing as Geiger, nothing has physically changed to me that's clearly visible. But his symptoms are nothing like mine.]  
{What do you mean nothing has changed? You're walking funny and Dymphna tells me you're suddenly experiencing high irritability and an issue using all your implants.}  
[Nothing has changed on a biological scale, neurologically everything is different somehow. I am not a neurologist, it's completely out of my realm of expertise.]  
{Then what do you propose?}  
[Dymphna?]  
(As I said to Isla before our call, her colleague Markus is a qualified neurologist with a number of pre-fall degrees to his name. He's even performed highly successful brain surgery according to records we've accessed. I propose involving him in the studies of Isla's infection.)  
{I said before, we tested his fork; he's unreliable, easily bribed, and is self-interested above all else.}  
[There's no one else more qualified than him on the base, even if you don't trust him, I do.]  
{Did nothing I just said get through to either of you? He'll stab you in the back before he'll put you first.}  
(Isla has a rapport with Markus, unlike yourself, Markus would not be on the base if the Board did not trust him completely, anyone suspicious or suspected of betrayal gets removed immediately as per protocol. Traitors are executed. Exhumans do not suffer the presence of others not like themselves.)  
{Fine, don't blame me when you get spaced out an airlock. I want a copy of all his research sent to your server for my review like everything else.}  
(I will make sure it happens, I'll be compiling a review request and approval request for the board shortly. He will have to follow the requirements of the contract the board agrees on or be expelled.)  
{Alright.}  
(He cut communication, I think he may be upset.)

Isla sighed heavily as she laid back onto her bed, arms dropping to her sides. 

[I imagine he would be, we thought I was going to be able to study this and I'm not. Involving others increases liabilities and risks.]  
(We don't have much in the way of choices.)  
[I think that's what aggravates him most.]  
(Very likely. Requests sent to Board pending approval.)

After another huff of air left her lips, Isla sat up and pulled her foot up from the ground and looked at it in confusion. Dymphna was right, the appendage didn't look any different, just the odd walking pattern felt more natural, comfortable even. Letting go of her foot, Isla looked to the fabber and requested a steak and baby potatoes through her mesh inserts; it would take longer to make than a sandwich but she had a craving for something she hadn't eaten in a long time.

[Message Markus for a call please.]  
(Done… Incoming call from Markus.)  
{Hello?}  
[Markus, I've sent a request to the Board for your assistance in studying the infection.]  
{Oh really?}  
[So far the changes appear to be neurological, nothing we've collected samples from so far from myself or Geiger show any signs of mutations in a biological manner, odd behaviour but no changes. The virus appears to have rewritten our neural network instead.]  
{And that is exactly why I said I wasn't going to trust you. Who's to say you're even still Isla?}  
[Because I'm asking for help, because I'm going to let you poke around in my head, in all technicality I will be your patient, not your colleague.]  
{…}  
[Would someone infected with malicious intent subject themselves to the mercy of another when their task is to remain hidden and unnoticed.]  
{Fine. But if I find anything, anything at all that suggests you're not in control, the Board will hear about it, and your morph will be executed.}  
[I knew you would say that it's already in the contract, right Dymphna?]  
(Correct.)  
{I know they have you on bed rest orders, so figure your-self out in the seventy-two hours they gave you before you come to see me. Bright and early, 6 am base time.}  
[Will do.]  
(Markus has ended the call.)

A faint ding and an alert on her Augmented Reality overlay notified her the steak was done being made in the fabber. Standing up, she tried not to fall over and fight the urge to walk in an odd manner but it was difficult on both accounts. Pulling the plate of food out of the fabber, she sat down at the table and started digging into it; she was abnormally hungry, though the fact she had barely eaten much of anything in two days was likely to blame.

The first day came and went after the mess that was the morning; riddled with bouts of sudden but brief headaches. "It's not easy to tell what's changed when I wasn't expecting to have to record every minute detail of my actions."

(Even I am having difficulties noticing changes, though it is slightly difficult to monitor changes when I cannot see you.)

"Why not pull up the camera feed for my room? Watch me that way."

(Noted, performing now and will continue as my access allows. Is it still easier to talk than communicate through your implant?)

"Using my implant is not comfortable anymore, it's hard to describe, but my implants feel foreign and distant? It takes concentration to use them. The sensation reminds me of when I got my first implants in my original body and was learning to use them." Isla was sitting in her bed, reading articles through her Augmented Reality overlay that made a screen only she could see appear in front of her face. Catching up on news, research, and developments the team had made. They were fairly cut off from the world so outside news was rare and terribly out of date, and even then it only reached them by word of mouth from a black market shipper most times. The Oort Cloud was a desolate place, to say the least.

When she reached the article on Geiger she winced. Apparently one of the more skilled ego surgeons was poking around inside his head for answers. Reviewing the infection, the sensations he was having, exporting a copy of everything into XP recording; a study that apparently didn't go too well. The person who witnessed the recording, another test subject, was now deemed to have psychological issues; his brain unable to handle the XP recording due to how different the two subjects were on a neurological level.

(See, you've been through a lot. Even if you're still human, and not hostile, things are different inside your head in a way we don't fully understand yet.)

"Thanks, I'm not sure if I feel better or worse about my situation." Her expression faltering beyond her control into something dourer than before. "Do we have any new programming on the base?"

(A few episodes of sitcoms, a documentary, new music videos, and a couple of movies; nothing of particular note or subjects you marked for notification.)

"And suddenly I am reminded why I always work through my days off." Letting out an audible huff as she let her head fall back against the wall she was leaning on in the bed. "Maybe I should just go back to sleep, I feel like I got beaten up by a sack of vegetables still."

(Odd given the results of your physical at first glance, he still hasn't sent us the full diagnosis or test results; but so far everything is normal.)

"We better have them by tomorrow morning. Has the Board responded yet?"

(Yes, they received the contract and it is in review for approval, so far no objections noted. It appears offering someone some control over your research has actually put them at ease, normally they don't act this fast.)

"I would hope so, it's why it took so long in the first place to get the approval." Wrapping up the conversation with her Muse as she shifted to slip under the covers and try to sleep. "See you in the morning, no wake-up calls, I want to try and sleep in for a change while I have the chance."

(Noted, good night Isla.)

It didn't take long to fall asleep, still mentally and physically exhausted, even her mild headaches didn't stop her.

*Wake up… Come to usss.*

Isla's eyes shot open at the sound of a voice in her head that triggered a stabbing headache, but she wasn't in her room, she was in some kind of fluid. Sitting up as quickly as she could she tried to gasp for breath only to find the fluid was viscous, a small portion of it going into her mouth in the form of an inverse bubble. Now choking and coughing, she brought her hands up out of the goo to wipe the substance off her face instead of being obscured by the murky substance. Finally able to draw air and see, Isla looked around at a laboratory straight out of a nightmare. Unfamiliar machines, sharp tools of unordinary design, and other vats of a similar green substance surrounded her.

"Where am I?" Muttering out loud to herself in shock and awe, looking down into the slime she was currently sitting in to find herself naked. 

*Come to usss.*

Isla gripped her head as the stabbing pain came back and left as quickly as the voice came. "Hello?!" She wasn't sure if she was grateful or not for the lack of response, but eventually, she worked up the courage to crawl out of the vat. Where ever she was the place made her skin crawl as she stood up to look around. Orange pustules covered the walls and roof, glowing gently to give the room an eerie light. The machines or what she assumed were machines illuminated against the dim glow to reveal sharp instruments or piercing, pulling, and tearing open flesh. Slowly she walked to an archway that resembled some sort of door before watching the thick membrane that covered it pull away to the sides as she approached, recoiling at the sight. "The hell is this place?" Her eyes squinting to see through the dim glow; the air in the hallway thick with humidity.

Her effort to wander through the halls was guided more by an unnatural tug in her gut than anything else; a sensation like her body knew where to go even if she didn't. "Dymphna?" Isla called out for her Muse only to receive a faint echo from the halls in response. 

Steady footsteps slowly began growing in the distance, a single set as best she could tell, but the footsteps were not human, the click of something hard not unlike bone echoed through the thick air. In a panic Isla searched for a place to hide, eyes scanning the dimly lit corridor to find a crevice in the wall; eagerly diving for it and curling up into the smallest form she could manage. It took everything in her not to make a sound, holding her breath as the shadows of whatever was coming danced across the uneven black walls. A gurgling grunting could be heard, followed by sharp inward breathing, similar to a predator sniffing out prey.

*Come to usss.* 

Isla couldn't help but let out a small cry as her hands flung up to grasp her head from the throbbing pain that accompanied the voice. Her eyes shot wide open as she realized what she had done, gaze shifting to look up at the shadow that now hung over her. A gnarled mouth of what she assumed used to be human breathed a terrible stench on Isla as her eyes locked with the five black orbs, the white pupils focused on what it had found. Her heart stopped and lurched into her throat as a twisted appendage and it's exposed muscle bone mix reached out for her; pulling away was useless with her back against the wall. As it touched her, Isla finally let out a scream of fear. 

"Isla! Isla, what's wrong?" The twisted mouth speaking to her in a familiar voice.

Isla found herself in her dark bedroom again, eyes held open with the sheer fear of falling asleep again. Light poured in through the door behind the figure she quickly realized was Markus. Her eyes were wide, the dream still felt all too real, paralyzed with fear.

"Markus, she's unresponsive, I can't get through to her." Dymphna's voice ringing from the intercom in her room.

"What's happening, Dymphna? I need more information than that." Markus stated in a less than calm manner Isla was used to hearing.

"Adrenaline is high, her heart is over 200 beats per minute. Suspecting medical alert triggered by a reaction to something in her nightmare."

"Is this normal? Does she get nightmares often?" Markus was gripping the side of her head, flashing a penlight in her eye as he held the eyelid open. "Pupils are dilating properly." He mumbled out loud.

"Sometimes, but never this severe. Something has terrified her to a degree I haven't witnessed before."

All Isla could do was shake as she tried to get her body to work, to move, to talk, finding herself unable to do anything other than remain a stiff vessel.

"Markus, her heart rate is stabilizing, adrenaline is still high but it's coming down, she must be conscious. I still can't reach her, her implant isn't responding like it's trying to reintegrate again." Dymphna rang out.

"Again? Dymphna, please explain. Isla, if you can hear me, follow my finger with your eyes." Markus asked, moving the light from one hand to another before waving his finger slowly in front of her face.

"Immediately after the climax of the infection period I was unable to reach her, and she experienced severe difficulty using her implants for several hours after."

Isla did her best to do as she was told and follow the finger as it traced a path through the air.

"All right, well, she's conscious enough to follow orders. Isla, it's okay, you're at the base, everything is okay, you're safe here, security won't let anything happen to you. Focus on slowing your breathing, and when you can, tell me what happened." Markus pulled away from her a bit, his hand reaching into the air and with it, the lights slowly started to turn on as not to hurt the shocked woman's eyes further.

"It was so real." Was all she managed to say after several minutes of silence.

"The nightmare was? What did you see?" 

(Can you hear me Isla?)  
[Y]

"I was in some sort of base, the structure reminded me of an insect nest. Something was talking to me, inside my head." A single hand slowly raised to cup the side of her head, as though to comfort the phantom pain.

"Was there anyone else in this base? What did the voice say? Did it tell you to do anything?" Markus was intense, but it was clear he actually showed concern for her wellbeing.

"It told me to come to it, to us, but I have no idea who *us* is. The base was empty except for a Xenomorph, stage 2 almost stage 3 given the mutations. It reached out for me, talked in your voice, then I woke up." Looking up at him with eyes filled to the brim with worry.

The look of concern on Markus' face intensified as she informed him of her nightmare. "Well then, this complicates things." Sitting back instead of leaning over her worriedly. "Did you do what it said? Did it make you against your will?"

"No, I, crawled out of the vat and started looking for a way out." Isla shuddered as she remembered crawling out of the goo.

"A vat?" Markus was not visibly confused instead.

"It was some kind of slime, like a medical vat used for regenerating limbs and other body parts, but I couldn't breathe in it." Drawing her legs up to her chest and wrapping arms around her knees to pull them closer. 

"Have you seen anywhere like the dream in videos? Pictures? RP recordings?" It was clear he was trying to find an explanation for the things she saw; a source to explain their appearance.

Shaking her head was all Isla could do to respond, nothing came to mind, everything she saw was new to her, even the twisted xenomorph was beyond anything she had witnessed during the Fall.

"I'll take care of her from here Markus, you've done all you can do for now, she just needs to calm down and go back to sleep." Dymphna chimed in.

"All right. You notify me if she has any more nightmares or displays any odd behaviour at all."

"All of her behaviours is subject to the terminology 'odd' at this point Markus, I will notify you of any significant changes instead."

Markus let out an audible noise of disagreement, but he never verbally said it. "Fine." Leaving it at that as he stood up and left the room. As the door shut the room was left with a dim glow of the morning light setting from the lights above.

(Isla? How are you holding up.)  
[D- g- a- I- d]  
(Talk if you need to.)

Isla's eyes welled with tears as she gave up trying to use her implant to talk to Dymphna. "I was just so scared, I thought I had been kidnapped or something."

(I assure you, you were not kidnapped, you've been present at the base for over six years without interruption.)

"Doesn't mean my dream didn't happen." Tears staining her cheeks as she finally gave in and cried quietly. 

(No, it doesn't, but you can let go of dreams since they never actually happened, it was all just a dream.)

"Dymphna, honestly, I'm scared. I thought I was ready for this, but I'm quickly realizing now how wrong I was." Isla buried her face in her knees and tried to focus on breathing.

(You could always be asked to be spaced and your backup restored.)

"I know. I'll think about it. Least I can do it make it till Markus' examination. At least then my backup will have something to study. Not too keen on the idea of being an Infomorph till they can ship a body out here."

(Unfortunate consequence of the situation, but you wouldn't be infected anymore, and if they execute you within the base your body could be studied since you're not infectious.)

"I'm not sure I'd be comfortable with that…" 

(Well, try and go back to bed, don't think about it right now. You've got another 57 hours of recovery before you have to worry about anything.)

Isla held back saying anything, it wasn't going to be as simple as closing her eyes like the first time, now she was afraid of sleeping and what her mind might concoct. She didn't want to listen to Dymphna rationalize something she feared in such a trivial manner, the AI couldn't possibly understand fear like a human, it wasn't as simple as 'don't think about it' or she would have done that by now. Eventually, though, she found the strength to crawl back under the covers and try to close her eyes, if nothing else she could at least rest even if she didn't sleep.

Sitting upright suddenly, choking on the goo again, Isla shuddered. She was back in the dream, in the same vat as before. "No. This isn't happening, it's not real, it's just a dream, it's just a dream, wake up Isla, wake up!" Yelling at herself as she closed her eyes and opened them, hoping one time eventually she would be in her room and not this hell. Pinching, slapping, even punching herself, nothing woke her up. 

*Come to usss.*

Gripping her head in agony, Isla held back the urge to cry out in pain this time, instead of yelling at the voice with all her strength. "Get out of my head! Leave me alone!" Her response was met with silence as her voice echoed briefly throughout the room. Without a reply, Isla went about crawling out of the tub of goo and looking around the room more thoroughly. "I just have to imagine there's an off switch, or an exit button, or something. Damnit, Dymphna, where are you when I need you."

*We made you.* 

Isla crumpled to her knee's in pain, holding her head as the voice came back.

*Come to usss.*

Tears filled her eyes as she recoiled from the stabbing sensation in her head. "Stop it!" Crawling to her feet, she continued to search the room. The other vats were empty, the machinery if it could even be called that had no buttons or interfaces. Walking over to the membrane door she let it open for her before running through and into the hall. "There's got to be a way out, it's just a dream, I just need to find the end."

The monster from last time wasn't patrolling the halls, and so she went through the maze following her gut instinct. She checked room after room, finding only dead ends, labs, and what she assumed were living quarters. Finally, there was a larger archway than those she had checked before. Nervously approaching it, the membrane peeled away to reveal a massive room that was filled writhing with twisted bodies. "Oh my..." Was all she could mutter under her breath before the stench made her gag uncontrollably. 

At the sound of her coughing, the whole room stopped writhing, twisting to turn and point all of their inhuman eyes at her. As Isla realized she had attracted their attention, she stood there and stared as they stared back at her.

*You've come… Let usss make you whole…*

Maybe it was because she was so close to the source, but the pain wracked her whole body this time, like lightning through her veins as she collapsed and blacked out.

Waking up with a start in a puddle, bright lights shined down from above and made her recoil. Despite her best efforts, she couldn't lift her arms to shield her eyes, they were restrained by something. With her blurry vision, Isla struggled to see, but it was apparent she was in a medical room of sorts. 

"She's awake."

"Put her back under, fifty milligrams should do."

Isla couldn't see the owners of the voices, but a cool fluid entered her veins and she couldn't resist the lull of sleep and longer.

She was back in the dream, black uneven walls surrounded her, this time she wasn't in her vat of goo, instead she laying on a flat piece of ground in the massive room. As her eyes adjusted to the dim green glow of the pustules that lit the place she saw the writhing mass once more, surrounding her. Looking down at herself, her skin was bubbling and stretching, bones cracking as they rearranged. All she could do was scream as the xenomorphs watched silently while she writhed on the floor in front of them.

*Come to usss… Join usss…*

The electric shocks to her body returned as the voice felt more like a chorus of people all saying the same thing. 

"She's waking up again."

"Fifty more milligrams."

"Doctor?"

"We can throw her in a healing vat if it kills her, just do it."

It was as if the worlds were melding, able to hear the doctors and feel the cold liquid coursing through her, while also able to feel her body rearranging and forming something different. 

"Hey, Isla, how are you feeling?" 

The voice penetrated the darkness, it took a moment for her to realize who it was, at last, she remembered it was Markus, and he was clearly worried.

"Like shit…" She mumbled back, rolling her head from one side to another to try and avoid the bright light she could feel shining on her eyelids.

"Take it easy, be still, you had a hell of a night."

"What happened…" Cracking her eyes open a bit to let them adjust to the bright lab. She felt drugged, detached, and confused. She didn't remember her dream ending, but she wasn't sure if she wanted to.

"You had another nightmare, worse than the first, Dymphna notified me. Nothing we did woke you up and your body heat kept rising like you were fighting something. You were surrounded by packs of ice but we could barely keep your temperature down, when you started waking up we put you back to sleep for fear being awake would spike your temperature."

It explained why when she first woke up it felt like she was in a puddle. Slowly lifting her head, Isla saw herself on a gurney, no longer strapped down; her skin her own, not twisted or misshapen. 

"What happened?" Markus was clearly worried, holding Isla's left hand tightly, she had never seen this side of him in her five years she had known the man.

"I was back in that weird insect base, a hive is a more fitting description after what I saw. It keeps talking to me, telling me to come to it, that it made me, and needed to make me whole. Then it… I started to mutate rapidly…" It still felt so fresh, so vivid, it almost hurt to remember.

"Is it still talking to you?"

"No." Pausing to shake her head. "Only when I sleep. Please, don't let me go back to sleep?"

"Well, you can't not sleep, but I'll see if we have a dream suppressant in the medical fabber blueprints when the time comes."

(I- n- m- a-)

"I can hardly hear Dymphna." Her voice trailing off as tears welled in her eyes, all she wanted to do was get her examination over with and die.

"We haven't been able to reach her, and it appears she can't access the intercom anymore as we haven't heard from her yet. Given what she told me it might have to do with your implants having problems again; might need to replace them."

"Markus, please, just get it over with. Pull as many scans and examinations as you can then have my backup instated and this one put down. I can’t do this, I don't want to anymore, it's not what I thought it was, it's so much worse."

Markus looked devastated by disbelief at her words. "It's barely been forty-eight hours since the virus finished its infectious phase, is it really that bad?"

"I'm doing things I didn't before. I'm acting ways I didn't before. Every time it talks to me is like being tasered by a shock glove wrapped around my skull. It did something to me in my last dream before I passed out, I don't want to see the results, I'm afraid to." Isla looked at him desperately, gripping his hand tightly. "Run the tests, then kill this morph, please."

"All right, Isla… I'll get things ready, just, rest for now; I'll be back in a bit." Markus gave Isla a tight squeeze with his hand on hers before getting up and promptly walking out of the room.

(Ap- i- ba- be-)

Isla could only lay there and wait for Dymphna to eventually get through. Time felt like it went so slowly as she heard bits and pieces from Dymphna now and then, still severely broken up for several hours before a message finally got through.

(Isla, can you hear me?)

"Yes…" Not even bothering to try and reach out to the implant to formulate a reply.

(Apollo is livid, he heard you wanted to die, he's working to scrub your backup from the servers as we speak. I've been trying to get through to you but your implants are a mess.)

Isla sat up like a bullet, eyes wide in fear. "But if he does that-"

(When you die you're gone, there is no backup, this is the only you left.)

"No, he wouldn't, he couldn't, he can't!"

(He is, he locked us out of your server, he's working on hacking through security right now.)

"Contact the Board! Markus! Anyone!"

(He's locked us out already, we have no base mesh access, he's already into the domain to be able to lock us out like this.)

"Fuck! No!" Isla threw the blankets off her body and ran out of the lab into the medical ward with a fury in only her patient gown. She was the only patient, and everyone was evidently absent due to how late it was when she found a clock stating 1 am. "Shit!" Bolting out of the medical ward into the hallways. "Help! Please! Anyone!" Screaming down the halls as she ran.

(I'm trying everything I can, but he's blocked us out on a signature level, not even guest accounts are working.)

"PLEASE! SOMEONE!" Shouting at the top of her lungs as she ran around a corner only to reach a quarantine door. "What?" Her confusion was cut short as another quarantine door behind her slammed shut. "No! Apollo! You can't do this to me!" Running to the door that just closed and slamming her fists against it. "Apollo! You bastard! Open this damn door! I know you can hear me!"

"Sorry Isla, a deal is a deal. We risked a lot and spent money you can’t even fathom to cause that infection outbreak for you and we're not going to have this opportunity thrown away because you want to back out now." Apollo's voice ringing out over the speakers.

"You have no idea what it's like! It's torture! It's hell! I don't want this! I made a mistake Apollo! I didn't understand what I was getting into!" She screamed back, crying as she did so.

"No, I don't know what it's like, and I will never have to, that was your job. Good luck Isla, you're going to need it, it was a pleasure working with you." The speakers cut with a crack.

"You bastard!" Voice cracking as she yelled at the ceiling before she broke down sobbing as she slid the rest of the way down the door in defeat.

It was hours before security regained access to the central server and consequentially the quarantine doors. When they lifted, Isla was sitting in the corner, fingers and doors bloody from the nails she ripped off trying to claw away into anything she could find a seam for. To make it worse she wasn't greeted by a rescue party, but security as they detained her, cuffed her and brought her into a makeshift interrogation room, the repurposed quarantine room where it all began. Cuffed to a chair that had been temporarily welded to the floor; still shaking with a mixture of shock and anger as a man she had never met before walked in past the heavy doors.

"You know why you're here, right?"

Isla refused to respond to his question as he walked up to her and began to pace, she didn't need a smart ass right now.

"Do you have any defence for your actions?"

"I did what I had to do to further the human race, and I failed." Clenching her swollen fists.

The man seemed to recoil at her words as she spat them out at him, brown hair stuck to her face with sweat as she glared at him with livid hate-filled eyes through her bangs. "That's not how we see it. You let an outsider into the base and betrayed us with lies. In the end, compromising our network and letting a massive dump of top secret information leak into non-Ex-human hands. So why don't you tell us your side before we make you tell us?"

"He had connections. Told me he could get a strain of the Watts MacLeod virus shipped to our base for study from the Kuiper Belt. I knew it would be pointless if we didn't perform our studies in a different fashion and went through the process of making a contract requisition with the board to be the scientist studying the next outbreak. I spent three years going through paperwork and fighting for my case. The trade-off for the virus was sending him the lab and test results, with his fork housed on my work server inside a virtualized machine I was able to work with him in real time. He betrayed me, as soon as I showed signs I didn't want to be infected anymore and deleted my backup before I presume to make his escape." Bloody fingers curled into a fist behind her back, fuming with rage at how easily she had been played.

The man seemed distant for a moment, no doubt talking through his mesh to people and check the legitimacy of what she said.

"My intent was to collect information on the Watts MacLeod virus to hopefully use it as a boon to the advancement of the human species as a whole. Subjects of the virus have been reported to possess supernatural abilities, ways to keep us one step ahead of the TITANS and at the top of the evolutionary chain. Nowhere were the side effects ever documented however, I was not prepared for whatever you want to call these nightmares and sensations." Swallowing hard to try and moisten her dry throat, still hoarse from all her screaming for help while she was trapped for hours.

"Well, your server is being confiscated as we speak. You are correct, after gathering a large amount of information your spy friend cast to a location around Saturn, presumably Titan. I have word from the technical team that you haven't lied, your backup is unrecoverable, he deleted it and scrubbed the server for traces of it after. Do you know what was his name?"

Her heart sank at the confirmation of what she feared, it took a long moment to pull herself together enough to speak again. "It was always a nickname, but I was told to call him Apollo." saying his name through gritted teeth as anger quickly replaced fear.

"Do you know whom he worked for? Was it a hypercorp?"

"Not a Hypercorp… Firewall."

The man couldn't hold back his scoff, turning to look at the camera no doubt with a smirk of disbelief. "Really? Firewall? That myth?"

"They're real, they want to forward humanity as much as us, maybe more, they just want to share the results with the human race instead of keeping it to themselves. They work to protect us from the people who want to destroy us." Isla grumbled under her breath as she stared at the floor, trying desperately to keep her seething hatred in check.

"Look, let's assume you're right; that Firewall exists, it's whom this guy Apollo was working for and that he took the information for purely holistic reasons and not to stab us in the back or sell it to the highest bidder. Why shouldn't we kill you for violating our laws?"

Maintaining stiff eye contact with the man as she spoke this time. "Because… I want him dead, and I want him to pay dearly more than you could ever imagine. He trapped me, stabbed me, and left me to die. All I want is to rip his still beating heart out of his chest and watch the look on his face as I feed it to him. Have Markus perform the tests he wants then ego cast me off base to Titan, they'll sleeve me for free, then I'll find him and rip him apart personally for what he's done to me, to us. He wants you to kill me, it would be one less loose end for him to tie up; why else would he leave his fingerprints everywhere." 

There was a long pause from her interrogator as he no doubt communicated everything to and from people. "Kinesics is a beautiful thing." He remarked quietly before kneeling down to be on eye level with Isla. "The Board is considering your proposal. It will take some time to arrange the egocasting if they agree to it, thankfully that should give Markus more than enough time to study you." Eying Isla up for a few moments before nodding "I honestly feel a little bad for Apollo at this point; I've never seen someone so angry." The man smiling and patting her on the shoulder as he turned to leave. "I'll let you know what the Board's final verdict is, meanwhile Markus and his equipment will likely start getting moved in here soon."

Isla gave a stiff nod of understanding as she remained cuffed to the chair.

(This level of obsession isn't healthy Isla, you need to calm down.)

"He left me to die on this rock knowing the board would kill me! He knew what he was doing all along! He cut me off from my friends through manipulation and false information! He used me like a tool! He preyed on my hope to make us excel as a species so he could test on me like a rat in a cage! I'll kill him! And when he sleeves again, I'll find him, and kill him again! And again!" Roaring with her hoarse voice back at Dymphna. Isla knew she was on death's door in a way her Muse couldn't understand, anger was all she had to hold on to, a reason to live through the hell Apollo had made for her. 

Before long multiple pieces of large equipment had been moved into her new home. Eyes slowly move over each piece of machinery before settling on Markus who had just walked in, clearly concerned. "You really do have a way with women, or is it just me?" She hissed at him with a smile, her throat too sore to make much else in the way of noise.

"Geiger isn't like this at all, what happened to you?" Markus said weakly, he looked almost hurt by the sight of Isla so broken and defeated.

"Indescribable pain, a betrayal, and finally handed the noose. Didn't they tell you? This is it, this is me, there won't be another Isla Harrel that isn't infected by this thing. I wanted to die and survive my mistake, but thanks to Apollo now all I want to do is kill him because I'm forced to live a nightmare. Revenge has a funny way of making you keep ticking, it's quite interesting, why don't you study it!" Roaring at Markus as she pulled against her chair, the handcuffs cutting into her wrists and ankles enough to draw blood before she relaxed in her seat and started laughing to herself. 

"This isn't you, Isla, you're someone else," Markus mumbled, wide-eyed from her attempt to lunge out of the chair.

"No Markus, this is Isla; raw, unfiltered, angry as hell Isla!" Snapping at him with her dry voice. "This is what broken looks like! What it feels like! Right now; I am the definitive definition of screwed! There's a TITAN virus inside my head trying to communicate with me, I have no backup plans to my backup plan. My world is in ruins thanks to one little shit who sat in a computer for four years LYING TO ME!"

"Let her go…" He mumbled quietly, covering his face with one hand.

"Markus, you have a job to do." A voice coming over the intercom.

"Remember Markus? We're on Base 718, disobeying orders is punishable by execution, just like anything else they don't like." Isla stated plainly with a twisted smile. "Do it. Do what the little man on the speaker says. Finish my work! Don't let my mess of a life go to waste! Put the human race before your feelings Markus, just like me!"

"I'm not doing it while she's awake to mock me, can we at least sedate her?" Markus pleaded, looking up at the camera. "She was my friend, I can't stand to see her like this."

"Acknowledged." The speakers replied, the faint sound of footsteps echoing from outside the room.

"Yes, put me back to sleep, I want to know more about what they're doing to me in my head, I want to see their hard work pay off, what I become." Isla roared hoarsely at Markus as the door opened and a doctor came in with a needle. "Good luck figuring out what this virus did to me, old friend. Maybe one day you can explain it all to me over a cup of tea?" Isla stiffened in the midst of her deranged rant as the needle poked her skin and the cool rush flowed in, her eyes fluttering closed before she couldn't resist any longer and blacked out.

*Come to usss.*

Isla's eyes opened slowly, sitting up and wiping the goo off her face before breathing. This time, however, she didn't bother to fight the pain, to ignore the voice and act against it, instead, she followed. Walking down the hallways with confident hate filled strides as she made her way to the grand hall filled with Xenomorphs. 

*Good, come, follow usss.*

The words felt less painful, almost non-existent pain now she wasn't trying to block them out. The mutated alien beings led her faithfully down the halls this time, they didn't snap their jaws, breathe in her direction, in fact, they kept their heads bowed like they were respecting her. Isla wasn't wandering around this hive like she was afraid and confused, she had a purpose in her stride and her chin held high, something the Xenomorphs appeared to acknowledge.

After a while of walking they stopped in front of another membrane filled door, gently guiding her in. A large pool of green liquid sat in the middle of the room, bubbling away as they approached. They didn't push or force her, all the xenomorphs did was stare expectantly. It was evident what they wanted, for her to step into the pool, it took a few moments for Isla to accept what she was doing, and what she was throwing away by doing it. "If humanity only cares to stab each other in the back, allow me to assist." She muttered before beginning to take her first step. 

It was warm, unlike the cold ooze she always woke up in, and much easier to wade through as she moved deeper into the pool. When only her head remained above the fluid she looked up to meet the intense gaze of the xenomorphs that had guided her.

*Submerge, breathe, let usss finish you.*

As Isla lowered her head, something slid over the top of the surface, trapping her in the vat. Strangely enough, she didn't feel scared or afraid, if anything she felt safe. Taking a breath in the fluid filled her lung, and after a small coughing fit, breathing in the thin fluid was like breathing air. Closing her eyes, she let herself drift off and waited for whatever process was taking place to finish.

The goo was warm, soft, it hugged her like a glove. Floating amidst it she let the gentle current spin her around slowly. She used the time in this dreamscape to begin formulating her plan to track down and kill Apollo. He wouldn't be easy to find, the man likely used hundreds of different monikers with all sorts of people; but she had a time and date, all she needed to do was track down where his ego was cast and she could begin following the trail from there. Egocasting centers were limited in numbers on Titan, which mean he wouldn't be too hard to find with enough time and effort. Unfortunately for Apollo, she had her whole life ahead of her if the board let her go, and all the time in the world.

Oh, but how to kill him. Ripping his heart out had been her first plan, but there was no suffering in that, it was too quick. The surface of Mercury was too hot for a drawn-out death, the gravity of Jupiter was too sudden if he didn't burn up in the atmosphere first. The ice trail of Europa could be a fitting bombardment but it would be too brief still, perhaps a slowly failing life support situation on Pluto or Charon was in order. Maybe slowly dipping each of his extremities in acid individually until eventually dying when his vital organs dissolved. A sneer formed on her face as she treasured the thought of hearing that man scream out for help like she did when he left her for dead.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isla gets a rude wake-up call, but things are still better than she hoped even if they are still not going how she planned.

When Isla woke she was surrounded by new faces and an unfamiliar room, her confusion was overwhelming as her eyes darted around frantically.

"Hey, it's okay, calm down, you're safe now. Whatever hurt you isn't here." A woman's voice said.

"She must have died, cortical stack restores are always the worst." A man joining the collection of voices.

"What is your name?" The woman asked.

(Isla, can you hear me?) 

Dymphna's voice in her head was a welcome reprieve to the confusion but the relief quickly stopped there.

[$@#%!&$*!]  
(Well that's not much better than before. My public mesh access reads we're on Titan, it appears the Board completed your request.)

Isla's eyes grew wide instantly, trying to jump off the bed, but instead, her body weakly twitched on the gurney.

"You just got sleeved, it's going to take a few minutes for everything to line up. Just take it easy and breathe." A woman said with a warm smile as they leaned over her.

Breathe. How many times had she been told to do that recently, and how many times did it solve nothing, absolutely nothing! Try as she might, however, the most response she could get from the new body was moving her eyes and twitching her fingers or toes. Opening her mouth was met with a weak electronic groan.

"Here, I linked up your implants to this ecto, try to send words to it." The woman smiling still as she tried to comfort her patient. When they looked at the screen however all she saw were symbols. Lines and lines of symbols filled in until a picture took shape, a face screaming. "Oh dear… Uh, James, maybe you should take a look at this."

A man approached and looked at the ecto-pad only to reel slightly in shock. Isla watched him hurriedly walk over to the machines she was hooked up to and double check everything. "No pain receptors are responding, physically she's okay. I don't understand."

Everything was fine physically, it was her mental state that was another issue! The idiots!

(Isla, I can talk to them, I just need something to work with, speak to me, anything.)  
[...20.5.12.12-20.8.5.13-9-8.1.22.5-14.15-3.15.14.20.18.15.12]  
(I don't understand Isla.)  
[%#@#$^&!... 1=@]  
(I will relay it to them, hopefully they understand what you're trying to say.)

"James, something called Dymphna is typing." The woman said, noticing the information on the ecto screen changing.

As James moved away from the screens he had been analyzing, he looked intensely at the message. "It's her Muse. The sleeving did not go well at all… That looks like some kind of code. Annie, can you run it against typical cryptology keys?"

"The message translates easily with 1:A as the cypher. 'Tell them I have no control.' I assume she's talking about her body given the situation." Annie said over the intercom, presumably James' muse.

"If this body doesn't work for her she's going to have to wait a few days to get a different morph in," James muttered, rubbing his chin. "Mariah, do we have some live storage for another ego for a few days? At least if she's an Infomorph we might be able to talk to her, figure out what happened, what she needs. Could be she's never sleeved into a synth before."

"Yes, we have a few spots, more than enough room for her." His colleague Mariah who had been holding the ecto responded promptly. "I can start on it right away."

"All right, unsleeve her and get her a spot on the server, I'll try to figure out what went wrong in the meantime. After she's in there can you ask her some questions? We don't even have a name, it's like her records don't exist, no id numbers, nothing." James was still staring at Isla intently, almost as though his eyes could see through her.

Mariah promptly nodded and started moving to a console. Isla tried desperately to type something out but not before she felt pulled away and found herself suddenly standing in a server. The first thing she did was let out a single long scream into the empty white plane of existence and fall to her knees crying. 

(Isla, what happened while you were sleeved.)

"It felt like torture. My brain was turning inside out, then right side in, nothing connected, nothing made sense. I couldn't talk, I knew what words were but I couldn't make them. I was a prisoner in that body." Talking through her tears as she cradled her head in her hands. "I just want to kill him! Is that so hard!" She screamed.

"Kill who?"

Isla jumped as she heard Mariah's voice, lifting her head from wet hands to spot the nurse a few feet away.

"Did he hurt you?" Followed as the woman walked in front of her to sit on the ground a few feet away. "You're obviously very distraught about something."

Isla scoffed and did her best to smile. "You could say that the last forty-eight hours have been hell for me because of him."

"Do you want to talk to me about it?" Her smile was warm and innocent, one might even say Mariah cared.

Isla stopped for a moment, it was weird, or rather, it was normal but foreign to her. She had forgotten what it was like to be around people who didn't live for science in their every waking breath; what it felt like to be around people who cared who you were, and not what you did, like Markus. In hindsight, she wished she could have said goodbye, apologized for the things she said to Markus in those last moments that still resonated through her core. Her partner in science didn't deserve that anger, Apollo did, but she had no one else a the time to channel her energy toward. Isla started to cry yet again, not saying a word as her regret sank in. Mariah quietly moved to her side and wrapped an arm around the distraught scientist, gently rocking her like a mother.

It was sometime later before she started talking, trying to compose herself as best she could. "Apollo, he did this to me. He tricked me, and when I wanted out he trapped me, he killed me in a way I didn't know was possible."

"How did he kill you? You're obviously still here, so to speak." Mariah asked calmly, the arm that had been wrapped around Isla now slowly rubbed her back.

"He tricked me into getting infected with a virus, and then he deleted my back up so I would have to perform the research on its effects because I had no choice left; and even if I chose not to, the scientists on the base would study me. They probably have a fork of me, poking and prodding my last morph, inspecting it like an insect." Isla noticed the woman pull away as she mentioned being infected. "Don't worry, it's not contagious, not anymore, only a short time after contraction."

"Didn't you say it had only been forty-eight hours?"

"Twenty-four-hour viral period, then the infectious portion dies off from the body's immune system response." She mumbled, watching the woman ease up a bit.

"Did you study infections like this one?" Mariah asked curiously.

"Something like that. Biology was my major, viruses are just something you have to learn and deal with as part of it. Biochemistry, gene modification and therapy, if you don't know how a virus or disease interacts with all those features you could potentially make something susceptible to them instead of immune." Finally, a faint smile graced her lips, she felt normal for the first time in two days now she was able to talk about science instead of what was wrong in her brain for a change, even if it was on a related note.

"Do you know what it was called? The virus?" Mariah asked quietly. "Maybe we can get you medicine. Or if it's physical, maybe it only changed your old morph, and this version of you is fine."

"It affects the person's nervous system, especially the brain, so I'm fairly certain it's still with me. You know how smoker addictions are mental and physical? How when they go to another morph they still want a cigarette? Then someone who gets a smokers old morph craves them?" Isla watched Mariah nod quietly, she couldn't tell them it was a TITAN strain, she'd be killed and deleted in an instant. "Same thing here. Though I suspect if someone is in the old morph that isn't me it would feel very weird at first till things rewired, or at least that's what my peer's studies suggest."

"Do you think it might be why the synth case didn't want to meld with your brain?" The sleever asked curiously.

"I don't know enough about how a cyber brain works to say for certain; I only know a fraction of what a proper neurologist knows about a brain, so I'm not very qualified to say." Mumbling as she pondered the question herself. 

"Well, a cyber brain works a lot like an infomorph in a server, but I suppose the way the brain sends signals in a server for actions and movements is much different than how the cyber brain tells the speaker box to transmit audio or move an arm." Her face lit up out of the blue as she jumped to her feet. "James probably knows!" Mariah eagerly pulling up a virtual window, going through a contact list and calling James.

"Yes, Mariah?" A video feed of the man's face playing in the air.

"Her name is- wait… What is your name?" The eager colleague of the man suddenly realizing what she had forgotten to do in the first place.

"Doctor Isla Harrel..." Trailing off as she realized her base numbers were irrelevant now. 

"Yeah, that's her name. Someone metaphorically stabbed her in the back, she's in pretty rough shape mentally, we'll need to book her with a proper psychiatrist once we get her a working morph. Do you have any idea what kind of virus affects the brain that might limit cyber brain sleeving?" The barrage of information appeared to hit James like a wall, trying to process the woman's lightning fast mouth.

"A virus? I don't know of anything that could alter the brain in such a way, biological or cyber. Cyber brains are still relatively new compared to the human brain or hybrid pod brains, it's hard enough as is to map our consciousness into ones and zeroes. If a virus did something to her brain it could be to blame, if that is even possible." James was obviously doubtful.

"I don't think she's making it up, I've only seen failed sleeves like that a handful of times, and she seems to know a lot about biology and the virus that infected her, she was forced to study it against her will," Mariah replied watching James' face twist in concern from the newly presented facts.

"I'll cancel the pod morph order and see if we can't get a biomorph instead. Policy states we have to sleeve everyone who gets cast in something that works for them; even if it's just something simple at least she'll have a body. I'll talk to you further when you're done in there." The feed cutting out quickly after he finished speaking.

"See! There you go, some good news to cheer you up." Looking to Isla with a bright smile, one the scientist could only weakly return. "What's wrong?"

"It's nothing, I'm just a little stir crazy, impatient, I don't know, this place feels cramped like my head is in a vice." Muttering through clenched teeth, the headache had started as nothing much but it was slowly getting worse.

"We could turn you off for a bit, cold storage shouldn't hurt, and that way you won't even have to wait for your morph, it'll be like sleeping but without dreams, like the blink of an eye! I promise!" Mariah's cheery tone was enough to turn anyone's frown around, it was no wonder she worked with the lost and found souls of system.

"I would like that, please, just promise me I won't be deleted or anything?"

"I promise! Titan policy! Everyone deserves a body!"

Isla smiled back weakly once more as she watched the woman disappear.

Mariah wasn't joking about it feeling like a blink, the next time Isla did so she was in the lab again, looking up at the same bright lights with James and Mariah looking down at her curiously.

"Good morning, how are you doing Isla?" Mariah asked warmly.

"Ah, ga, fa, ma." Isla looked confused as she heard the words leave her mouth, or what remained of them. "Ba, ma, ya, ta. Ra ga?" She groaned, closing her eyes, she breathed slowly and tried to let her frustration get a hold on her yet again. 

"Isla has been experiencing issues with implants and sleeving since becoming infected, I suspect until she has some time to get used to the body she may not be able to speak properly." Mariah looked up the intercom speakers as Dymphna's voice rang out. "I assure you she's not viral at this time."

As the two sleevers turned to Isla, all the scientist could do was shrug from her position laying on the table, not able to talk and clueless as to what happened.

"Wow, that Apollo guy really messed you up," Mariah muttered in surprise.

"Apollo who?" James asked, becoming even more confused than he already was.

"Oh, I forgot to tell you, the reason she's here is because of a guy named Apollo; betrayed her and forced her to be a test subject for the virus that infected her brain. Don't know how she ended up getting sent here though..." Mariah watched as James' head twisted to look very concerned at Isla.

"I did a little research on you while you were in cold storage. Isla Harrel doesn't exist post Fall or a year before the Fall. A scientist that was working with a team of radical gene modifications is the last thing I could find. You made a big enough fuss in the scientific community the information on you and your colleagues survived an extinction event." James' arms folding across his chest as he looked down at his patient.

Isla's eyes cast away from James with a hint of shame on her face. She had done things she wasn't terribly proud of. The Exhumans had given her a chance to start over and put her work to the test in a more humane environment, comparatively at least. 

"It is evident you regret it to some extent given that look on your face so I won't turn you into the authorities yet, six years can change a person. When you get your lips working I want everything you can tell me out of that head of yours. I have to file reports and fill in history gaps, and you got a big one to explain." James stormed out of the sleeve bay and let the door shut silently behind him. 

All Isla could do was lay there as her nerves started to respond slowly, eyes watching Mariah look at her with worry and no doubt pull up information on AR about her. It was clear when Mariah had found some of her earliest work by the look of shock crossed their face. "You did this to people?" Mariah asked in disbelief to the nearly motionless body who managed to weakly nod, mouthing the words "I'm sorry" back. "I-I need a moment…" Mariah mumbled, quietly removing herself from the lab as well.

(It appears life is catching up to you rather fast. All I can say is be honest, I know you regret those early experiments, but show them that when your body starts working properly.)  
[yyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy]  
(Not sure what you're trying to say but, I'll assume you're agreeing.)

Isla sighed, letting her head rest on the cool pillow the table sported, closing her eyes to try and sleep off the difficulty integrating with her new body; it could be hours before she could move and stressing would only make it worse.

Once more she found herself in the warm darkness of the pool in her dreams, left to think about the world even while she dreamed.

*Grow. Ssstronger. Better.*

The words rang through her head like a chime now instead of a harsh voice; vaguely pleasant to listen to.

*We will complete you.*

When Isla woke a few hours later, her body was her own finally, able to lift herself up off the table and swing her legs over the side.

(How are you holding up?)  
[You remember Duct Tape?]  
(Of course.)  
[I feel like that's the only thing holding me together at this point.] 

Isla replied mentally as she wandered out of the lab in her patient gown. 

"Ah, Isla! James is in his office at the end of the hall, he'll be eager to see you." Mariah's tone unsteady still from their seat at the front desk a few feet away, likely still trying to cope with the fact a murderer stood before her. "Do you always…" The woman quietly pointing to Isla's feet.

Looking down Isla noticed what Mariah was asking about, her odd walking stance. Slowly looking at the woman again, she gave a bleak nod of acceptance before striding past the woman and towards the appropriate door.

"Come in."

Isla didn't even get a chance to knock before he permitted her entry, activating the sliding door and stepping in. James was behind a fake mahogany desk, his right arm outstretched to imply she sit in the finely upholstered chair across from him. Taking a seat in the chair, she was surprised by the comfort of it, something she hadn't experience in years.

"So," James said plainly, but he didn't continue, instead he just looked at Isla waiting for her to start explaining herself.

"Well, my name is Isla Harrel, you know my education and profession obviously-"

"Don't play stupid, where have you been for eleven years." James interrupted.

"Eleven?" Her tone shocked as time sank in. It must have taken ages for the data upload to reach Titan; that or the council had waited to send her ego off. Six years were gone, six years Apollo could have gone anywhere, six years of time that could have been spent on science and innovation wasted; she'd never get that time back, ever.

"Isla?" James chimed in, pulling her from the trance of shock she had been in.

"Yes- Sorry- I'm- The lack is getting to me; it's my first time in a while." She hadn't thought lost time would bother her so much, she always thought people were blowing it out of proportion when they lost a week or two; but now she could feel the massive loss of time for herself it was a flood of emotions. Anger, frustration, sadness, disappointment, the list went on but it was all negative. "Um, well, what's the last thing you know?"

"That one of your old scientist friends from the hypercorp ratted you and your colleagues out for crimes against humanity for a sleeve on Luna. Needless to say what was left of the hypercorp you belonged to turned to dust after the public got word of the tests run on rejected refugees." James was wearing a stone face but his tone let on his disagreement with her actions.

"I regret what I did, I knew it was wrong, but I did what was needed to survive. We were all scared and they offered a safe place with an evacuation guarantee..." Her voice trailing off as she could see her argument fall on deaf ears. "I never wanted to test on humans."

"But you did, and there's a lot of families and friends no one will see again because of people like you. So, where have you been?" James quickly putting the questionnaire back on track.

With a heavy sigh, she kept her eyes glues to her lap, unable to handle his judging gaze. "I don't know about the last six years, but the five before that I was on Luna briefly before being cast out to the Oort Cloud on a remote Exhuman science station. I was on the verge of a major discovery before everything went downhill." 

"And you researched?" James starting her next sentence for her in a demanding tone.

"Genetic modification, gene therapy, and using pathogens to enhance the body instead of kill."

She could hear him scoff in fake surprise. "Did a scientific U-turn on the pathogens there."

"You could say that." Giving a half-hearted smile of uneasiness. "Wanted to share what we found with transhumanity, what better way than a bug that made you stronger? Wouldn't have to worry about deploying it to each person, free body enhancement so to speak. I wanted to make us strong enough to fight the TITANs if they came back."

"Noble, but given the fact you're sitting in front of me I take it that didn't go well, and this Apollo you speak of is to blame." 

James was spot on, not that there was much to miss from her outburst in the server. "Yes. He betrayed me and set me up to be killed by my own colleagues."

"And got you infected with something rather odd from the sounds of it." He butted in.

With another heavy sigh, Isla nodded. "Yes, a part of the betrayal. It was supposed to be a control infection; I had numerous backup plans in place for when I had finished my first-hand accounts of the virus and its effects but he made sure all of those backup plans were destroyed. He wasn't supposed to be on the base, so when he revealed himself I was branded a traitor for letting him in; I guess he thought they'd kill me and he'd never have to deal with me again. He ran off with my life's work and I was left for dead."

"You said you don't know about the years AF4-10, why?" There it was, the question she dreaded even thinking about.

"I don't know; it only took a couple of months for the Luna dish to beam me out to the Oort Cloud, maybe it was better than the dish on the base that sent me here? I was being set up for what I assume were brain scans and torture but I woke up here instead of being strapped up like a test subject." A thought occurred to her that sent a shiver down her spine. "I hope they didn't just edit out all the memories of testing after they were done."

"Memory editing like that typically leaves a blank spot in the patient's memory they're aware of but can't place what it was, that's why good memory editing puts fake memories in the gap; if you don't have either of those chances are they didn't fiddle with your head." James seemed to have relaxed a bit from his interrogation mission to a more reassuring stance. "Anyways, I do regret to inform you that your pathogen work back on earth is something a number of people might want you dead for still; ego hunters are a dime a dozen these days and if someone caught wind of you, well lets just say the good ego hunters are still in business for a reason. For your protection, I've filed you as an unnamed ego due to data loss in transmission. As per protocol, we have to give you an identity; the random generator drummed up Nora Landon if you're all right with that." 

James was amazing at the verbal one-two-punch, hitting her from on side before smacking her around from the other. To be wanted after all these years and having to abandon her name was jarring on top of everything else. "I guess?" Was all she could muster, unsure of what else she could do at this point.

"All right. Well, next on the agenda is your mandatory civil service placement; you have a few options. Military, security, science, social, or working with me at my sleeving facility? I think you could do good work here with your gene therapy and modification background; being a sleeving facility we sometimes get odd morph modification requests when we're not doing the free sleeving for every Ego that gets sent in. You might just find you enjoy helping people instead of studying them."

As Isla sat there she tried to study how he spoke to figure out if his offer was malicious or self-interested, it could be the kinesics of this morph were rubbish but it sounded like he was being honest. "That doesn't sound like a terrible idea." In a half-joking half serious tone, she mumbled. "Make up for my mistakes in the process."

"That's the spirit." James smiled, able to see it out of the corner of her eye thanks to slightly raising her head as the conversation drew to a close.

A faint knock at the sliding door revealed Mariah standing behind it as the door slid open. "Uh, James, I have the synth ready for ego sleeving… Is everything okay in here?" It was obvious she could tell that her presence was interrupting a very serious conversation. 

"Is everything okay in here Isla?" James asked plainly. 

"Yes." She mumbled meekly, swallowing her pride in the process.

"Perfect, just sign on that ecto and everything will be in order Isla- or should I say Doctor Nora Landon?" James said matter of factly as he stood up to walk around his desk and over to Mariah.

"Nora Landon? What are you talking about? What's going on?" Mariah asked as James gently pushed her out of his office gently.

"It's a long story, I'll explain after this patient. Oh, and Nora, feel free to make your way over to the storage closet, should be a change of clothes in there for you, being an employee and all. Come back to my office after you get dressed." 

Giving the man a nod, she spent a few moments collecting herself after the door closed; less than a perceived 72 hours and her life still felt like a teetering mess. When Isla finally got up she made her way to the storage closet with the help of signs in the halls, opening it to find a full set of nurse scrubs. With a heavy sigh, she grabbed the bundle of clothes and made her way back to his office to get changed before he finished with the patient. With her old patient gown neatly folded and placed on the corner of his desk, Isla now sat in the pale green outfit of a nurse as she reached for the ecto and finished signing herself away, yet again. 

"I hate contracts." She muttered under her breath in disgust as she gently tossed the finished form filled ecto back on his desk from her seat in the opposing chair.

It wasn't long before the door opened and James smiled when he saw Isla still there and dressed. "Good." He said simply, reaching for the ecto on his desk as he sat down and went over the paperwork. "Everything checks out, your new identity should be cleared in a few days, to be safe, please start using your new name immediately. I don't need a bounty hunter coming in here guns blazing and ruining my life's work." James let out a sigh of satisfaction as he collapsed the Ecto and leaned back in his chair, hands behind his head.

"Thank you." Her gratitude mumbled as she started to stand up.

"I am going to need you to tell me as much as you know about this virus you were infected with. If you do anything weird I need to be able to understand why before I pass judgement." James smiled as he watched Isla stiffen in her seat. 

Isla quickly began to explain the virus, eager to finish so she could get out of this room and away from the makeshift interrogator. "A temporarily infectious strain of a nano-virus. After twenty-four hours of severe cold-like symptoms, the virus becomes non-infectious and the person stabilizes while the nanobots are flushed from the body. What the virus changes in each person is different given first observations, but it primarily affects the nervous system and neural networks of the brain. I personally am plagued with headaches, nightmares, nausea, and an odd posture of walking on the balls of my feet. That's all I know so far, aside from the fact a person infected with the virus has a fundamentally different brain network, that seems to be the only consistency really between people even from the same strain and vector."

James was quiet as he listened, just patiently nodding to show he was listening now and then. "You seem to know a lot about it."

"I didn't know anything despite my years of research till I got it, nothing could have prepared me for this," Isla mumbled.

"Why did you bother risking infecting yourself?" James seemed as intrigued as he was confused by her choice. 

"I thought the changes would be biological, some of it was, but in ways beyond modern science's understanding. As a biologist, I thought studying it could help me achieve post-human status. No one ever wants to get infected without a stringent backup plan and even then you fear the unknown, I was willing to push past that fear at first. What I didn't understand was over ninety percent of the documented changes I have heard about so far were neurological or mental. I was in over my head as a biologist majored in genetics." Isla was studying James for any tells, but he felt his face stiff and his motives hidden.

"So, if this virus isn't infections in any way, and you experience a neurological rework, does that mean you're super smart now or something? There has to be a reason you thought this could make you get past our transhumanity stage." James' hands came over the back of his hands to rest in his lap as he looked at Isla intently.

"I thought it was mutation based, that the mutations would be minor but beneficial, again, I was focusing on biology to explain what I had discovered from other's research. The ability to understand the unknown, to calculate anything and everything in real time without having to know the equations, superhuman intelligence, and an unknown way of affecting others around you physically or mentally." Isla huffed in disappointment, not knowing if she had gained anything at all for her troubles yet. "It sounded like beneficial mutations had taken place from the other reports, like mutants in old world comic books."

"I take it you got none of what you expected." A smile creeping through his stone-faced expression. Isla figured he thought there was some kind of sweet irony to a cruel scientist getting a taste of their own medicine.

"Nothing other than pain, and nightmares so far." She grunted back. 

"It's been less than 72 hours mentally for you, right? Give yourself some time." James gave a short chuckle before sighing. "Until all your forms come back you can't start working on patients officially, so, feel free to spend the time getting your feet back under you and licking your wounds." Standing up from his seat, he walked around the desk and patted Isla on the shoulder reassuringly. "Just make sure you don't leave the clinic, don't want you getting arrested for not having an ID."

Isla quietly nodded, still sitting there as he left and the door closed behind him; at least they weren't in the same room again but now she didn't know what to do with herself. 

(James seems to be quite the character.) Dymphna remarked.  
[A face-down card in the hands of a magician more like it.] Isla groaned mentally.  
(I didn't sense any hostile intentions, seems like a guy doing his job.)  
[He's hiding something from me and I don't know what because I can hardly tell when he's telling the truth or lying. He must have some kind of emotional suppressant. Doesn't let anyone see anything he doesn't want.]  
(Likely true. Only time will tell.)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The joys of infections.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A less structured chapter with some jumping around points but this is a bit of a odd transitional point in the story still and I didn't want it to drag out that much longer till we start getting to some stability.

Sleep brought her nightmares to life yet again, still floating in the warm green slime in a sealed pool. She wanted out now she was past her fury, stepping into it had been from a moment of desperation and anger, hoping it would reveal the infection's intention and grant her the inhuman powers she was lacking. Instead, she was trapped with no clue how to get out, but she also didn't appear to be in any danger or pain, so it at least made her nights bearable. Occasionally the hissing voice echoed in her head like a chime, reminding her of why she was there and what was to come.

"Hey?"

Isla woke with a start to see Mariah leaning over her spot of sleeping on the breakroom couch. "Hi." Her voice was groggy as her body adjusted to being yanked out of the trance-like state.

"Those nightmares must really be something," Mariah remarked as she stood up straight. "You're always twisting and turning in your sleep, I'm surprised you feel rested at all when you wake up." The woman had become less distant over the week, especially after Isla had taken her aside and told her she regretted what she did during the Fall and wanted to make amends by working at the clinic.

Isla laughed as she sat up and smiled weakly. "I don't really, been perpetually tired since the infection." Pointing to the bags under her eyes she knew were there. It had only been a few days but the brand new body was already drained and it was showing physically. 

"Why would you put yourself through this?" Mariah asked quietly as she moved over to the fabber on the counter to grab something out of it as it dinged. 

"I didn't know what I was getting into. I thought it was all lightning fingertips and brain swelling intelligence, I didn't know it would take such a toll on the body and mind and offer nothing in return." Isla's tone turning a bit off-key to emphasize just how stupid she felt, sinking back down to reality.

"And those?" Mariah remarked to the bruises that seemed to cover Isla's forearms and no doubt other parts of her body under the nurse scrubs.

"I'm off balance for a reason I can't figure out, I keep falling down and it's getting worse. Medichines say everything checks out, blood doesn't show any deficiencies or excess, inner ear undamaged, it's all in my head somehow."

"I was wondering why I kept hearing loud thudding noises," Mariah said quietly to herself as she lifted a cup of hot synthetic coffee to her lips, blowing on it before taking a sip. "Do you fall forwards or backwards?" 

"Forward..." Isla remarked, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes with both hands.

Mariah was evidently thinking from the look of concentration on her face while she tasted her coffee. "I'll pick something up on my way home for work, we can see if it helps when I bring it in tomorrow, okay?" She said finally with a small smile.

Isla wasn't going to turn help away, nodding in agreement to someone finally having an idea to assist her. "Thank you, I'll take any help I can get right now." Giving Mariah a nod of thanks as they left the room to start work.

As the day progressed, Isla went about helping clean the clinic between the patients, she couldn't work with them yet but she could work around them. It felt demeaning to be doing janitorial work when she had so many doctorates and years of scientific experience behind her old name. What's more, is it was frustrating that she was cleaning instead of trying to find Apollo before his trail went colder than the void of space.

The night cycle meant another feeble attempt at sleep; which led to another dream trance in the pool of ooze. This time however she felt a small pain on the back of her head that faded quickly. Reaching behind her head she realized something she hadn't noticed. Tubes, tens of tubes connected to her skull, pulling on them did nothing but cause pain. Feeling around to see if there was any more in the darkness, she found numerous connections down her spine. Fear was sinking in again as the unknown made itself ever present. She still had no clue what their idea of "whole" or being "fixed" was to these warped beings, but evidently, she was going to find out whether she wanted to or not.

"Good morning Nora." Mariah's voice pulling her out of the dream state again, a regular occurrence due to the woman's early arrivals every morning. Isla rolled off the couch and onto the floor in surprise before letting out a groan. "I'm sorry! Are you okay?!" Mariah rushing over to the now prone Isla.

"Yes, just, really bad dream." She groaned, sitting up against the side of the couch before lifting herself up on her hands and feet to slide onto the cushions. If standing up was hard not to fall over, getting up from being on the floor was nearly impossible without some creative thinking at times. Once she was upright on the couch Mariah gave her a concerned smile.

"Here, this is my idea." The assistant handing her a backpack, as Isla took it she nearly dropped the bag from how heavy it was.

"What the hell is in this? Lead?" Concern spreading across her face as she tried to heave them back onto the couch beside her.

"No, but close. Put it on your back and try to stand up straight, see if it helps stop you from falling forward." Mariah instructed cheerfully.

Isla did as she was told, donning the backpack and standing up. The sensation of being unsteady was present but not nearly as bad. "Wow, Mariah, that actually works really well." Taking a few testing steps successfully. "Where did you get the idea?"

"Pre-fall I was into paleontology, you know, digging up dinosaur bones and studying them, was a bit hard when most of them were under several feet of toxic flood water; but anyways! A ton of dinosaurs should have fallen flat on their faces, but they had long thick tails to help balance them out. I noticed the way you walked was similar to a dinosaur with the posture of your feet. You just needed a tail, or in this case, a backpack." Mariah sounded exceptionally proud of herself.

"Huh." Isla looked a bit dumbfounded she hadn't thought of it herself. 

"Anyways, I think James got your ID in and your housing sorted. You'll be able to go home to an apartment instead of sleeping on the couch and actually, start helping out more. He told me to tell you to go see him in his office."

Isla nodded to Mariah, leaving her to make the ritual morning cup of coffee as she made her way down to James' office. Once more his voice called to her before she even touched his office door, the automatic door opening for her at his whim.

"It's easy to tell you're the one walking down the hall, you have such an odd pace to your step." He replied before Isla could even ask the question of how he knew. 

Isla remained quiet as she stood there in his office, the door closing behind her. She was already self-conscious about her walking, Mariah had bought her a pair of heels to wear so she didn't look odd in a flat soled shoe; but Isla still didn't walk right, going toe to heel instead of the other way around.

"Mariah tells me your nightmares are pretty constant, from the moment you pass out till you wake up you look like you're in pain. Are you okay?"

"Mostly." She grumbled as she stood patiently waiting for what he actually had her called in for.

After a long awkward pause, James picked the conversation back up. "Well, Nora Landon, your ID is official, so is your job here; and in addition to that, you've been given an apartment for housing near the center of the dome not too far from here. I'll transfer the encrypted files to your Muse shortly; just present them to the authorities if they stop you at all."

"Is that everything?" Isla asked quietly.

"Well, we had to set up a bank account to pay you so that's been arranged and is a part of the encrypted files. We also managed to book you an emergency appointment with an ego surgeon to try and investigate your neural infection and validate your case for bringing Apollo to justice for backup deletion and contract infringement."

"I'd like to respectfully decline the ego surgery," Isla replied, earning a raised brow from James. "Firstly I don't want anyone looking around in my head and seeing something I didn't even want to see. Secondly, my cortical stack doesn't appear to be finished constructing the initial map back up, it's taking longer than anticipated, likely due to the nature of my infection; if anything goes wrong I have nothing to restore from." In truth she didn't want them realizing she was infected with a TITAN virus, even if it wasn't lethal or infectious she'd be killed in heartbeat.

James gave a slow nod as she explained her reasoning plainly. "Fair enough, I didn't know that about your cortical stack, I figured it would have been done after the first day, not still in the process a week later. I'll let the surgeon know to cancel the appointment. Well, is there anything I can do to help you then?"

"I know this is an odd request but…" Isla paused before reconsidering. "Never mind, I can do it on my own."

"All right, if you insist. Feel free to head home and get acquainted with the place, Mariah and I can hold down the fort for today. Maybe treat yourself to a set of smart clothes or something, should be enough credits in your account for that; then you have a wardrobe instead of just our spare scrubs to wear." 

Isla nodded politely before looking around his office once curiously. "Is that everything then?"

"For now, yes. Take care and see you tomorrow, bright and early." James waved her off with his hand, the door opening behind Isla to let her leave. "One last thing, before you go. What's with the backpack?" James asked, stopping Isla while she was halfway through the doorway.

"Mariah's idea so I don't keep falling down when I walk. It's weighted."

James gave a slow nod of understanding as Isla continued her way out.

The trip to her apartment was uneventful, her odd gait earned a few stares from passersby but no one said or did anything. Walking through the door to her room was an odd feeling, it felt like being on the base for a moment until a much more spacious and comfortable living space greeted her. Closing the door behind her and locking it, she looked over the place in no small amount of wonder. The base had been cramped, you had enough room to eat, sleep, breathe, sit, and that was it. This large bachelor suite had its own private bathroom, a bedroom surrounded by glass that no doubt could tint to block out light from the full wall window. A fancy fabber was in the kitchen area with a table for a few people to sit around if she had company. A few couches face one another in an area she assumed was for relaxing and conversation. Everything was a sterile white accented by transparent shades of blue.

(Wow.) Dymphna's voice echoed in her head.

"You can say that again," Isla mumbled. "I haven't lived like this since I was in high school and still with my parents…"

(I know you don't trust James, but, he reminds me a lot of Markus, just with a lot less ego.)

"I don't know about that Dymphna. James is his own entity."

Opening up her AR overlay, she tweaked the saturation of the room to be darker greys instead of pure white. Sitting down on the couch she opened up her mesh and began pulling up websites; James had the right idea, she needed to wear something other than these scrubs. Her order for two sets of smart clothes went through without issue, which led her to check her bank account and look onward in awe. 

(Noted: Courtesy of Jameson Stewart; "to help you get back on your feet." Looks like he bought your apartment too.)

Isla was staring at a little less than a hundred thousand credits that she didn't even work for.

"I don't think he needs to turn me into bounty hunters, he's pretty well off," Isla mumbled to herself as she closed the AR window, still hit with a fair bit of shock he was doing so much to help her. Leaning forward to take off her backpack, Isla nearly fell off from the change in balance. "Hey… Dymphna do you think we could sneak a healing vat in here?"

(Possibly, if it was retrofitted with nuclear batteries it wouldn't show on the power grid.)

"What if I jerry-rigged it?" 

(Without a proper degree in electronics or training I wouldn't recommend it, bad wiring could cause a miniature nuclear explosion if the batteries destabilized from the unusual wiring.)

"All right, professional needed. Didn't the clinic have a spare healing vat? In that dusty back room?"

(Correct, only used in emergencies, but last service and use were during the fall to heal wounded rebels from fighting TITANS. Sleeving facility was repurposed at the time to be a medical clinic. Would need an inspection before regular use.)

"Maybe I can bring that back up to snuff with the money James gave me, pay a technician to inspect it and upgrade it. In exchange for repairing it, I get to keep it."

(Why do you want a healing vat so bad?)

"I want to try and make something comfortable, I've had an odd itch I can't scratch. I'm hoping by the time I get it repaired I'll know what it is I'm craving."

(I'll message James and see what he thinks.)

"Thank you, in the meantime, I'm going to sleep. Can't wait to be in a proper bed instead of that rigid couch." After stripping down and grabbing a shower she slipped into the clean bed with a sigh of relief; at least she could be comfortable while tortured.

When sleep came Isla lay suspended in the goo once more. She couldn't tell what the tubes were doing in the darkness as she inspected them further. She did feel oddly more aware, able to sense the creatures walking around the pool above her when they came in to check. Her muscles felt strong, coiled and ready to spring. Her mind felt oddly open to some alien presence as it soothed her with its words.

*To hunt...*

Isla woke with a start as she heard the words in her head, Looking around the room and it's black tinted glass as the lights slowly turned on when they sensed her movement. 

(Isla?)

"Just nightmares again." She mumbled, taking a few deep breaths before laying back down from her shocked sitting position.

(You hadn't woken up from them in a while, did something change?)

"Sort of, I don't know." Even as she lay there her muscles reminisced in the strength they had felt. Her world felt like it was getting sharper, and her brain was tense in her skull; the dream was slowly beginning to feel like it was bleeding into reality. Isla felt undeniably stressed, wound up from the week of events she had experienced in such rapid order. Deep breathing exercises weren't helping as she tried to calm down, and it felt like something was creeping up on her.

Suddenly it all happened in a blur, an out of body experience as she moved furiously about the bedroom before everything went black.

"Isla… Isla can you… Isla please respond." Slowly she opened her eyes to see James standing over her bed in a state of shock. "What the hell happened?"

"What do you mean? What are you doing in my apartment? What time is it?" Slowly moving to sit from her position of being curled up on her bed, pulling at a blanket to cover herself in the process.

"You didn't show up to work all day so I came to check on you. What in the hell did you do to your bed?!" 

In confusion, Isla looked down and around her. The foam that filled the bed was ripped apart in the center in the shape of a circle, the now significant dip in the mattress filled with blankets and pillows is what she had actually slept on, spare foam littered the floor. "I… I don't know. I thought it was a dream."

"Obviously it wasn't. The hell were you dreaming about?" James was obviously distraught.

"I woke up from a nightmare, but then I felt weird, everything felt distant, I was moving fast, I didn't know what was happening." Mumbling as she slowly pulled herself out of the bed. Looking around in shock at the sight of all the ripped foam, sheets, and pillows everywhere; it was as if a rabid animal had been in her room. 

"Just, clean yourself up, I'll be in the living room." James excused himself from the room with a heavy sigh before disappearing from sight thanks to the tinted glass. 

Looking down at herself, foam falling off the top of her head from its place in her short brown hair. Inspecting her hands revealed the red smears on the sheets were what she feared, having torn nails again and cut her hands up in the process of whatever she had done. Without much, in the way of clothes till her smart clothes came Isla wrapped one of the larger remnants of a blanket around herself and stepped out of her bedroom cautiously. James was sitting on one of the couches, head in his hands, no doubt trying to think of what to do with the mess of a person he had inherited. 

"I don't get it, you were fine at the sleeving clinic." He muttered.

"I don't understand it any more than you do James." She replied quietly, still standing by the bedroom in her makeshift robe.

"Is this part of what's wrong with your head?" One of his hands making a motion to signify a screw being loose next to his head.

"I'm inclined to believe so, yes." Her voice still small, more out of shock from what happened and what was going on.

"What are your nightmares even about? Why would an infection make you do that." A man who always had all the answers finally didn't have one.

"I wake up in a pool of green fluid where I'm submerged. They talk to me, about what they're doing to me, and recently, what they're hoping to make me do." Isla watched James' expression slowly shift to disbelief as she told him what was happening in her sleep.

"So a voice told you to tear your bed into a thousand pieces?" He seemed doubtful of everything at the moment.

"No- I- something is happening to me in the nightmare. After I woke up I felt strange, then suddenly I wasn't in control, and then you found me." Her voice getting smaller as she felt more and more worried about what was going on and how he would react.

With a long frustrated sigh James, ran both hands over his short hair from front to back. "All right, well, I can't risk you doing whatever *this* was in the clinic." Gesturing to her room before continuing. "Between the patients and the equipment, even one episode could cost a small fortune."

Isla didn't know what to tell him. She wanted to say she'd get it under control but she honestly didn't know if that was even possible; what's more was how could she find Apollo if she kept having episodes like this, she'd get thrown in a hospital before she ever found a trace of him. "Maybe the clinic idea won't work out?" As much as she had been looking forward to getting some guilt off her back it was clear the job wasn't going to work out; but what would?

"Agreed. However, we need to find another placement for you though, the civil service in mandatory." James was rubbing the brows of his bowed head trying to think of something, but at this rate, Isla suspected he wouldn't have eyebrows left by the time he thought of something. "Just, stay here, and don't leave, I'll think of something. I have friends in different sectors, maybe one of them is willing to take on a handful like yourself."

"Okay." Her reply was meek as she stood beside her bedroom still in the blanket, trying to think of a solution herself but coming up empty-handed.

When James left a few minutes later without another word, let alone a goodbye, Isla was left to let out a frustrated scream. Less than ten mental days after infection and all she had was drawbacks, a six-year-old grudge without a lead, and no job. It took everything in her not to punch a hole in a wall as she seethed with renewed anger for Apollo; scapegoating her frustration by focusing on him. 

(Obsession isn't healthy Isla.)

"You think I don't know that! What would you do? Hm? You can't walk without a weighted backpack, you don't actually feel rested for getting sleep, and you just got fired from your job because you tore up your room and didn't show up for your first day of actual work! Oh, not to mention your life's work is sitting on a base sixteen and a half light hours away filled with asshole doomsday preppers!" Screaming hoarsely at her Muse. "And the only reason your life is in the toilet? One little shit who betrayed you after four god damned years!"

(While I don't know what I would do, it would not be this, I can assure you. James will figure something out, he's been good to us so far. The fabber is making bandages and medicine for your fingers; why don't you go to the bathroom and get cleaned, then come out and patch yourself up?) 

With a huff Isla stormed off to the sink in the bathroom, dropping the blanket now she was in privacy and began furiously scrubbing her hands clean. It took a few moments for the situation to sink in before she looked down at her nail lacking fingertips in confusion; Not old was her nailbed exposed and bleeding, she was running them under cold soapy water and all she felt was a dull sting. "Dymphna?"

(Yes?)

"I don't feel it. I should be in pain but I don't feel it." Gawking at her bloody fingertips as she spoke. "Did you administer any pain killers through medicines?"

(Not yet, I was surprised you hadn't asked admittedly. Are you sure you can't feel your fingertips?)

Shaking her head, Isla tried her best to explain. "No, I can feel them; textures, temperature, just the pain is missing."

(Odd... I'm going to note it in my observations alongside your shortened temper and high irritability.)

"Sounds like a plan." Still looking at her fingers in awe as she tried to figure out how the infection could do something like kill pain, assuming it was to blame. 

After finishing up in the bathroom she moved to the fabber and pulled the medicine out. A gel that would help mend the torn flesh and encourage the regrowth of her nails was applied to her fingertips liberally before wrapping them up in gauss to prevent an infection. "Well, I mean, at least falling will hurt less." Trying to look on the bright side as she desperately struggled to swallow the anger still bubbling inside.


End file.
